Be Perfect
by Trizzy
Summary: [Friday Night Lights] Can Mike Winchell really handle the pressure and be perfect? Only Roxanne Chadwick believes that he can, and that he's worth more than people give him credit for. But is it enough for Mike?
1. Chapter 1

Mike Winchell was in the midst of zipping up his jeans when she finally managed to unstick the stubborn bathroom door. It probably wouldn't have been such a bad situation, had Melissa not been in the small, cramped room with him, pulling her cropped black tank top over her perfect blonde hair. Mike immediately wanted to smash his head against the mirror as she surveyed the scene in front of her. He watched as her perfectly painted lips formed into an 'O' of shock and embarrassment. One look into her eyes revealed her true feelings about the situation. If Mike had learned anything in his years of perfecting his quiet demeanor, it was that feelings always registered in a person's eyes, no matter how hard they tried to hide them. And once he looked up into her deep, green eyes, he knew what she was feeling. But she did her best to keep her composure. She straightened her back, brushed strands of red hair from her flushed face and cleared her throat.

"Sorry," she murmured, abruptly turning and closing the door on them.

And just like that, the world around Mike Winchell came crashing down. Not stopping to say anything to the flustered blonde behind him, he flung open the door and sprinted down the stairs after the disheartened redhead. He caught a glimpse of her at the door as he shouldered his way through the crowd of people. Finally breaking through on the other side of the throng of partygoers, he found her, picking at the polish on her bony fingers. She looked up, only for a moment, to see who had followed her outside of the excitement. But what she didn't know was that she was his excitement. So she plastered a brave smile on her face and let out a deep breath she'd forgotten she was holding.

"Great party huh?" she asked, returning her attention to her nails.

He strolled up to her, hands in his pockets. "Roxanne, about that-"

She held up a hand, stopping him short. "You're a big boy Mike. You can fuck whoever you want in that bathroom."

'Yeah but I'd like it if you were the one in there with me,' he thought. Outloud he said: "Yeah but it wasn't a good thing to walk in on. I don't even like her."

"Trying to prove a point to her Mike?" she asked, not bothering to hide the smirk on her face.

"She said I was gay," he deadpanned.

"So you had sex with her. Great way to prove your point Winchell," she said, giving him a playful shove.

"Do you have a ride home tonight Roxanne?" he inquired, folding his arms over his chest.

She shook her head and rubbed her thighs. "You don't have to drive me home just because I walked in on you after sex."

"That's not why I'm offering you a ride," he stated, toeing the dirt of the driveway. "I'm offering because I don't want you to walk home at three in the morning."

"I didn't know you cared so much," she teased. "I can manage by myself though. Just go back and enjoy the party."

"Well that would imply that I was enjoying it in the first place," he said.

"Oh so you just want to drive me home so you have an excuse to leave?" He nodded. "Alright. Drive me home Mike. But you owe me later."

"Thanks Roxan-"

"If you call me Roxanne one more time, I'll run you over with your truck," she warned. "Call me Roxy."

He nodded, watching her walk towards his truck. "Did you drink tonight?"

"I don't drink. It stops my creative flow," she stated, flinging the door open. "Do you drink like Billingsley does?"

"No one drinks like he does. Except maybe his dad," he replied, dropping his voice for the last comment, hoping she wouldn't hear.

She smiled and looked over at him as he climbed behind the wheel. "I guess we all get something from our parents, even if we don't need it."

He nodded, starting the drive home off with a relaxed silence. Roxy sighed contentedly, watching the quiet world of Odessa pass them by. She was unaware that he tossed casual glances in her direction, not allowing any of them to linger long enough for her to feel them. He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. She turned to look at him, taking in every detail of his profile. The passing street lamps cast dark shadows over him, adding to the mystery that shrouded the quiet quarterback. She smiled and reached over to place a warm hand on his tense forearm. The sudden contact of her soft skin against his started him out of his daze. He looked over at her, slowing his truck to a crawl so as not to run into anything on the road. Her smile grew in the hopes that he would return it, but he didn't. Nothing out of the ordinary. Mike Winchell never smiled. Roxy finally gave up and turned to face the front. Mike wanted so desperately to slam on the breaks and pull her into his arms, kissing her until neither one could breathe. Instead he settled for the silence that they sat in, trying to think of something to say to her. As usual, she beat him to it.

"How come you never smile?"

The question had been asked countless times before and he still didn't have an answer. He couldn't explain why he didn't smile, so that's what he said.

"I don't know why I don't smile Roxy," he replied, pulling into her driveway.

"Home sweet home," she sighed, climbing out of the stationary vehicle. "Thanks for the ride Mike."

"Hey uh, Roxy?" he called out, poking his head out his open window.

She turned, walking over to him. "Yes Mike?"

"Do you uh, do you have a ride to school tomorrow?" he asked.

Roxy smiled. "Yeah. It's called the bus, Mike."

"Oh I can um...I can pick you up on my way in. I drive by your house anyway," he muttered, suddenly becoming quite interested in the rearview mirror.

"What time should I be waiting?" she asked, matching the low tone of his voice.

He looked up, too quickly to hide the look of surprise on his face. Roxy laughed, reaching out to touch his arm. She took a step towards the truck and rested her hand on the ledge of the open window. Before Mike knew what was happening, Roxy had placed a warm, soft kiss on his cheek. She smiled and stepped back, her hands clasped firmly behind her back so he wouldn't see them shaking. Under the light of the moon, the warm flush that crept up her cheeks came off as a subtle glow. Roxy hoped that it made her look good, since in that moment, she felt like a complete asshole. And then Mike did something that nearly knocked her off her feet. He smiled.

"I'll come and get you at six thirty," he said with a soft chuckle.

Roxy nodded. "Six thirty. Good night Mike."

"Night Roxy," he whispered, watching her turn on her heel and stroll into the dark, unlit house.


	2. Chapter 2

**Aw nuts I forgot the disclaimer, as usual. Well y'all know the drill. I don't own Friday Night Lights. The players own themselves and I own Roxy. That's about it. Enjoy!**

The cafeteria was always crowded on Wednesdays. It never phased her. She thrived off the teeming life of the large room. Roxy loved her Wednesday lunch hours. Roxy loved all lunch hours, but she loved Wednesdays the most. She also had mornings to look foreward to, now that Mike had taken it upon himself to drive her to school. But they were from two different worlds at school and she had come to accept it, since her first day at Permian a year ago. So she sat alone at her lunch table, headphones secured tightly against her ears and pen moving furiously across the lined pages of her notebook. And as she sat, scribbling madly in her book, Mike sat across the room with the rest of the football team, watching her. It wasn't unusual for him to eat his lunch in silence, but when he wasn't otherwise preoccupied, watching the over zealous redhead, he would make contributions to whatever conversation was being had. Today however, his muteness did not go unobserved. Don Billingsley waved a hand in front of Mike's face, bringing him crashing back to the reality of the world.

"Mike, what the hell are you starin' at man?" Don asked, trying to follow Mike's gaze across the crowded cafeteria.

"She's always wearing those headphones Don," Mike marveled. "Every free moment she has."

With that comment, Don's gaze fell upon the lonely redhead. "Oh you mean Roxanne? Yeah she doesn't go anywhere without that Walkman."

"What do you think she's listening to?" he asked, poking his food with his plastic fork.

Don raised an eyebrow. "What kind of question is that Winchell?"

Mike shrugged. "I don't know. I'm just curious as to what she's listening to Billingsley."

"Show tunes," he replied, shoving a forkful of potatoes in his mouth. "Frank Sinatra mostly."

It was Mike's turn to raise an eyebrow. "How do you even know that Don?"

"She tutored me last year in math. Girl's a Goddamn whiz kid when it comes to equations and shit. Everytime I went to her house, she'd have some bluesy jazz playing in the background. Like I said, mostly Sinatra. She loves Ol' Blue Eyes," he explained, washing his lunch down with a carton of milk. "But I think the question you should be asking is, what the hell is she always writing in that book of hers. She never lets anyone see it."

"Maybe she just wouldn't let you see it Billingsley," Mike stated, throwing his fork on the lunch tray and standing up.

"She won't show it to you either Winchell. It's like her diary or something. I asked her once, what she wrote about. She just laughed at me and went back to writing down the formula for the quadratic equation," Don said, letting out a loud belch and rubbing his stomach. "But go ahead and ask man. Maybe you can use your Mysterious Mike Winchell charm and get her to reveal all her secrets to you."

Mike scoffed and walked away from the table, leaving the rest of the team to squabble about who was the hottest cheerleader. After throwing his uneaten lunch in the garbage, Mike found himself wandering over to Roxy's table. She didn't look up, either because she didn't realize he was there or because she was ignoring him. Instead of waiting to find out what she was thinking, Mike sat down across from her, waiting for her to acknowledge him. Roxy looked up from her notebook, which she discreetly shifted from his view, and pulled her headphones from her ears. She smiled and closed the notebook, shoving it into her backpack.

"Well howdy Mike. What brings you over here?" she drawled.

He chuckled. "I just wanted to ask what you were listening to."

"Really? I'm uh, I'm listening to show tunes. Well, technically it's Frank Sinatra. It's the Guys and Dolls soundtrack," she replied, rubbing the back of her neck as heat crept up her cheeks.

"So Don was right," he mumbled, hiding a smile. "What are you doing this weekend Roxy?"

She pursed her lips in though. "Uh...nothing as far as I know. Why do you ask?"

"Well we have a game Friday night and I was just wondering if you'd like to go?"

"Go to a Permian football game? Hmm...well what kind of Odessian would I be if I didn't go to the first game of the season? Of course I'll go Mike. I was planning to go anyway. Did you have something in mind for after the game?" she inquired, removing the headphones from around her neck and shoving the Walkman into her bag.

"Well...yeah. I was thinking that maybe we could um...just get something to eat," he said, rubbing his hands together.

Roxy reached across the table and placed her hand over his. "I would really like that. But if you will excuse me, I have a class to get to."

He nodded, standing up with her. "I'll walk you."

"That's OK Mike. I wouldn't want you to be late for class. It is the first day. What kind of impression would that make?" she asked. "Catch me after school before you disappear to practice."

"Alright. I'll meet you at the locker room doors then?" he asked.

"I'll be there with bells on," she stated, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

"Hey Roxy?" he called out.

She turned, a broad smile on her face. "Yeah Mike?"

"What were you writing in your notebook?" he asked, glancing over at Don, who was watching the two as if they were in a school play.

"I was writing about you, Mike Winchell. The best quarterback this team has ever seen," she replied, turning and dashing out of the cafeteria.

When Mike turned to face the football team, he was pleased to see a dark scowl splashed across Don Billingsley's usual smug face.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello readers! I'm here to announce what I should have announced in the first chapter. This story is dedicated to CandieBabie30, because reading her awesome FNL fic Live in the Moment (which you should all read by the way) inspired me to write this fic. So I hearby decree that _IS IT ANY WONDER? _is dedicated to her. That is all**

**Oh and I don't own anyone in this story but Roxy.**

**

* * *

**Boisterous football players poured into the locker room after the Friday night game. Their exuberant cheers filled the room and surrounding corridor. They had won their first game of the season, starting the long road to playoff season on a high note. But Boobie had injured his knee and they were still unaware of the extent of the injury. Coach Gaines would allow them this one night of celebration; one night to enjoy their well earned victory, before he had to break their already fragile spirits. Roxy stood outside of the locker room now, chewing instinctively on her lower lip. Her mind wished that she would just turn and leave; let Mike go to the after party alone. But her legs wouldn't move and her heart cried out for her to give the shy, quiet quarter back a chance. A chance at what, she didn't know, but she let out a long sigh as she concluded that he really did deserve a chance at something. So she waited, headphones filling her ears with the smooth sound of Dean Martin. With a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching, Roxy decided it was a good time to practice her dancing. As she launched herself into a flying leap, Mike chose to exit the locker room. His sudden entrance onto her "stage" gave her no time to correct her jump and she was horrified upon her realization that she would land on him. Mike seemed to be thinking the same thing, but he was too shocked at her approaching figure to do anything. So he opened his arms and caught her around the waist. It knocked them both to ground, but with less force had he have just let her hit him. Pinned underneath the flushed and panting redhead, Mike felt things stir that would put them both in an awkward position. He abruptly sat up, rolling her onto the floor. She pushed her hair off her sweaty forehead and wrenched her headphones over her head. 

"Oh my God Mike I'm sorry. I didn't-wow. Thanks for catching me," she breathed, stuffing the Walkman into her canvas bag.

He brushed the back of his pants off and extended his hand. "If I'd known you'd give me a greeting like that, I probably wouldn't have made you wait so long."

She smiled, allowing him to pull her off the ground. "Ready for the party?"

"Do you want to go home and change? After a work out like that?" he asked, not letting go of her hand as they walked down the long stone corridor.

"Do you mind? I mean...if you want to get to that party that's fine," she said, glancing down at their joined hands.

"In all honesty, I don't want to go to the party," he sighed, running his free hand through his hair.

"Well then what do you want to do?" she asked. "Is it-you just want to go home then?"

"No!" he boomed, starling them both. He cleared his throat and tried again. "No. I still want to hang out. I just don't want to spend our..."

She smiled, hoping he would say the word that she had secretly been using to describe this night to her mom. "Our what?"

"Our date. I don't want to spend our date surrounded by drunk fools," he finished, praying she wouldn't notice the blush creeping up the back of his neck.

"Our date Mike Winchell? Why, I'm flattered," she teased.

Before he could retract his comment, out of sheer embarrassment for letting his feelings out too soon, she gave his hand a squeeze. The guesture relaxed him immediately, which in turn made him smile. "Can I tell you something Roxy?"

"You can tell me anything Mike," she replied.

"I didn't think you'd come out with me tonight," he confessed.

"Why? Did the guys on the team give you any reason to think that?"

"I just don't think that highly of myself I guess," he whispered, letting go of her hand and walking around to the driver's side of the truck.

Her face was a mess of confusion as she stared at him. "That's a real shame Mike," she murmured, climbing into the truck.

"Why should I think highly of myself? Because I'm the quarterback of the football team? That's hardly something to kick up a fuss over," he barked, stabbing the ignition with the key.

"I bet every single person who comprises the population of this town would disagree with you there. But you give more to the world than being a football player," she shot back, folding her arms over her chest. "I don't see you that way Mike."

"And what way do you see me?" he demanded, furiously pulling out of the school parking lot.

"You're the quiet, mysterious guy who sat next to me in English last year...who happens to be the best damn quarterback this team has ever seen," she whispered, picking at stray threads on her ripped jeans. "So can you please chill the fuck out and drive like a normal human being before you kill us both?"

Mike laughed, slowing the angry pace he had climbed to and relaxing his grip on the steering wheel. "I'm sorry. I just...sometimes I get really fed up with just being the quarterback."

"Mike?" He turned and looked over at her. "You are never just the quarterback to me. I really do think you have more to offer the world."

"What do you want to do tonight?" he asked, pulling in to Roxy's driveway, noting that the house was once again bathed in darkness. "Are you parents ever home?"

She shook her head. "My parents travel for business. Currently, my mother is in Japan and my father is in New York. Would you like to come in?"

"Of course I would. No guy in their right mind would pass up that chance," he replied, cutting the engine and climbing out of the truck.

Mike followed Roxy into the house, hands shoved deep in his pockets to avoid the temptation to reach out and touch her. Every bad part of his body screamed for him to press her up against the wall and have his way with her. As she made to go up the stairs, he waited at the bottom, unsure if he was allowed to follow. Halfway up the towering flight of stairs, she realized that she wasn't being followed, so she turned to motion for him to join her upstairs. He swallowed the mounting lump in his throat and climbed the stairs after her. The pictures on the wall were all of Roxy, documenting her through her seventeen years of life. Photos of her in a pink tutu caught his attention, making him choke on his suppressed chuckles. She turned back to face him, eyebrow raised in confusion. When she saw the source of his humour, she rolled her eyes and slapped his shoulder.

"I was twelve," she stated. "Ballet was my life."

"What's your life now Roxy?" he inquired, making a mental note to obtain copies of those pictures.

"Writing," she replied, turning down the hall towards her room. "Writing and Sinatra."

He smiled. "Sinatra huh? I've never heard any of his work."

"You're missing out Winchell." She stopped in front of a closed black door. "When I open this door, you are not allowed to laugh, or make a comment of any kind."

"Is this your room?" he asked, peering at the door as if staring at it would give him X-ray vision.

"Not a word," she warned, opening the door on her concealed world.

The walls were plastered with movie posters. Not new releases; movies from years and years ago. He bit back a smile at the large poster of The Rat Pack that hung over her bed. It was by no means a terrible room. It filled Mike with a feeling of comfort and it humanized her more in his eyes. The desk in the corner was littered with notebooks and loose sheets of paper. Precariously balanced atop the mountain of notebooks was a math textbook. The sight of the text book reminded him that Don Billingsley had sat in this very room, struggling to grasp the concepts of math that evaded Mike just as easily. And at his mental image of Don laying on her floor, listening to show tunes, he burst into an uncontrolled wave of laughter. Roxy threw him a dirty look and vanished into her closet.

"I told you not to laugh," she snapped.

"I'm not laughing at that. I just...I just pictured Billingsley on your floor struggling to learn math and listening to show tunes," he giggled, perching himself on the end of her bed. "I really like your room."

"I'm rather fond of it myself," she sighed, emerging from the closet in a tank top and jean shorts. "Take your coat off Mike. I've decided what I want to do."

"It doesn't involve show tunes and jumping me does it?" he inquired, shedding his jacket and tossing it on her bed.

She rolled her eyes. "That was a freak incident I hope never to relive. No. I want to lay on my roof and get to know you."

"What?"

"Well, we've been kind of friends for a year now and I know nothing about you. I'm tired of filling in the blanks myself. Please just humour me," she sighed, holding out her hand.

"Um...won't you be cold?" he asked, guesturing to her outfit.

"I have a blanket in the attic. Come on. Prove to me that you are more than this town gives you credit for," she goaded, pulling him off the bed and dragging him out of the room.


	4. Chapter 4

A warm breeze swirled around the serene couple as they lay on Roxy's roof, staring at the black velvet night above them. Roxy rested her head on his warm chest, the soft sound of his heartbeat nearly lulling her into a deep sleep. He had his arms wrapped comfortably around her, enjoying the feeling of her arms around his waist. They had run out of things to say to each other, and had fallen into a complacent silence. Roxy smiled and tightened her grip on his waist, not wanting to let him go. As she and Mike divulged secrets to one another that they both thought were locked away forever, Roxy began to realize just how complex and fascinating Mike Winchell really was. He in turn, began to see just how much he really did have to offer people. He also realized just how strong his feelings for Roxy really were. And he wanted so badly to tell her. Taking a deep breath, he squeezed her tighter in his arms and kissed the top of her head. She looked up at him, eyes half closed and a smile on her face.

"I'm glad we skipped the party tonight," she said, leaning up and kissing his chin.

"So am I. This was a lot more fun. I never knew one person could be so in love with the fifties," he teased.

She pinched his side and propped herself up on her elbow. "Why did you skip the party Mike?"

He crossed his arms over his head and sighed. "Because I would rather be here with you."

"That's cute. Thanks for ditching them for me," she said, cradling her head in her hand.

Mike propped himself up, rising himself to her eye level. "Roxy, I would do almost anything for you. I really like you."

"Enough to date me exclusively?" she inquired, wiggling her eyebrows.

"Yes," he replied with no undertone of humour.

"Seriously?" she asked, dropping the tone of her voice just above a whisper.

He nodded, a small smile creeping onto his face. "Yeah. I'm sort of new to the whole dating thing, so I don't really know how it works. Does this make you my girlfriend?"

She smiled, shuffling closer to the warmth of his body. "Only if you want it to."

"I do. Want it to," he stated.

Roxy leaned in and placed a hesitant kiss on his warm, soft lips. He was less hesitant as he pulled her against him and deepened their kiss. When he slipped his tongue in her mouth, she rolled him onto his back, pinning him underneath her for the second time that night. He slid his hands under the hem of her shirt, running them up the expanse of bare skin underneath. Roxy could feel the onslaught of shivers before they even curled down her spine. Mike felt the tremor run through her body and pulled her flat against him. In the passionate moment between them, the crisp night air just wasn't cold enough for either of them to cool down. So Roxy sat up and looked down at the flushed face of her boyfriend. He smiled, rubbing the small of her back. Her brow furrowed as she looked at him, studying every inch of his face. She lay down on him again, resting her head on his chest. Mike kissed the top of her head and let out a sigh.

"Mike, do you really want to play football in college?" she asked, listening to the slowing pace of his heart.

"I don't know. Maybe. My mom wants me to," he replied.

"But do you want to?" she inquired, turning to rest her chin on his chest instead, looking into his blue eyes.

"I think so," he stated. "What do you want to do after high school?"

"Get out of Odessa. Go to a good school, maybe be a journalist," she replied.

"You really want out of Odessa that bad?"

"Not as bad as you Mike. Not as bad as you. Then again, I don't think anyone wants out as bad as you."

He sat up, his arms wrapped around her waist. "I want to win state so people will stop walking out of my life."

She placed her hand on his cheek, stroking it gently with the pad of her thumb. "Not winning a football game isn't making people walk out of your life. You have your mom. And your friends on the team. And so what if the rest of the people who live here look down on you if you don't win? You guys won tonight and that's a good start. The people who really care about you, won't leave you."

He shook his head. "What about you Roxy? Will you leave me if I don't win?"

"No way Mike," she replied, kissing him and wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Why?" he inquired through the kiss.

Roxy smiled. "Because I don't care enough about the game."

He laughed then, pulling her close and burying his face against her neck. "Well I guess that's as good a reason as any. So I can cross you off the list of people I'll disappoint this season."

"You shouldn't even have a list. No one is going to be disappointed in you this season Mike Winchell. You're gonna make us all proud," she whispered in his ear before standing up. "Come on. Let's go inside and watch a movie or something."

He stood, grabbing the blankets and pillows. "Does it gave Frank Sinatra in it?"

Roxy grabbed a pillow from him and hit in the head. "Smart ass. No it does not have Sinatra in it. I was actually thinking of something with a little more…action."

"Action? Like what?" he inquired, jumping down into the attic and helping her down.

"Do you like The Terminator?" she asked with a false Schwarzenegger accent.

He nodded, biting back a smile. "I do."

"Then let's watch it shall we?"

Mike followed her down the stairs to the living room. "So you like The Rat Pack…AND Arnold Schwarzenegger? You're a complex girl Roxanne Chadwick."

She glanced at him over her shoulder as she rummaged around for the movie. "I believe the correct term is eclectic."

"Whatever it is, you're gonna keep me guessing," he stated, flopping onto her leather couch. "When are your parents coming home anyway?"

"Don't get any ideas. Just cuz I'm your girlfriend now, doesn't mean you can have your way with me on the first date," she teased, popping the movie into the VCR and making herself comfortable in the armchair.

"Excuse me, but what the hell are you doing over there? If we're watching this movie, you're watching it with me. On the couch," he demanded, trying to keep a serious tone in his voice.

"I don't think so. If we sit in proximity of each other, there won't be much movie watching done," she stated, grabbing the remote and skipping through the previews.

"Alright that's it," he said, sitting up and tackling her on the chair.

"Ah! No fair!" she cried as his added weight tipped the chair over. "Real nice Mike. Use your football tackling as an advantage against your defenceless girlfriend."

"Like hell you're defenceless. I do believe it was you knocking me to the ground after the game today. Does that sound familiar?" he asked, fighting the urge to carry her back upstairs to her bedroom.

"That was me catching you off guard. If you were prepared, there is no way I could take you down. Now get off me," she demanded, rolling him off of her body.

He smiled. "Excuses, excuses. Just pick the chair up and come sit with me on the couch."

She threw the remote at him and picked the chair up before joining him on the couch. Mike accepted his victory like the quite guy he was by pumping his fist in the air and letting out a loud whoop. He then settled down on the couch, his arm around Roxy, watching Linda Hamilton and Michael Biehn run from The Terminator.


	5. Chapter 5

**CandieBabie03: I'm updating this story more than my Four Brothers story. But here's the next part. I hope you like it. I was going to make it longer, but I'm breaking this game into two chapters instead. And I thought I'd throw a little Billingsley in there, which in turn slowly leads into my Billingsley story. See if you can pick up the clue. And speaking of updates...when am I going to see an update to your story huh? LOL just kidding. No rush. **

**

* * *

**

The following week, at school, they hid their relationship from everyone. Mike's football practice made it easy. It dominated most of his after school time, while Roxy was working. The week passed quickly for him, his trepidation for the game putting the days on fast foreword. For Roxy however, the time crawled by. She spent most of her week locked away in her room, filling notebooks with confessions about her actual feelings for her shy, quiet boyfriend. She couldn't make sense of the feelings that extended well beyond the initial physical attraction and she was beginning to fear that she may be falling for him. In fact, it was her startling realization that led her to skip Friday's game. So she sat on her couch after school, staring at the blank TV screen, nothing better to do. Her bout of serene laziness was interrupted by an eruption of pounding on her front door. She glanced at the clock, wondering who would rather be at her front door half an hour before the game, than actually at the game. So when she opened the door to reveal a very disheveled Mike leaning on her door frame, her brow immediately furrowed.

"Uh Mike? Shouldn't you be at the game right now?" she inquired. "It starts in like...half an hour."

"I'm not going to that game without you Roxy. I need you there," he stated.

"Why?" she asked, clearly puzzled by his statement.

"Because I liked looking up in the stands last week and seeing you there. And because you said you don't care enough about the game to judge me if we lose. So if we lose tonight I need to look into your eyes and know I didn't disappoint at least someone important in my life," he confessed.

Roxy blinked back tears. "Let me get my coat Mike," she croaked.

"No resistance?" he asked, watching her grab her coat from the closet under the stairs. "You were so adamant about not coming to the game."

"No one's ever wanted me as much as you do Mike," she replied, pushing him out the door, stopping only to lock it. "For something other than sex."

"What about your parents? Haven't they ever wanted you to be somewhere, to support them for something?" he asked, opening the car door for her.

She shook her head. "My parents only care about themselves. I've never been that...cared about."

He started the car, mulling over what she had just said to him. "So you've never felt loved?"

"If I tell you this, will you promise not to make a big deal out of it?" she asked.

"I promise."

"I mean really promise. I don't want to re-open old wounds and I'm surprised I'm even telling you," she sighed, rubbing her temples.

"Roxy, I promise not to make a big deal out of it," he assured, reaching over and taking one of her shaking hands.

She took a deep breath and ran her free hand through her hair. "My parents aren't on vacation."

"Well then how come they're never home?"

Roxy bit her bottom lip and tapped her foot, a habit she had picked up from him. "They went away on vacation last year, right after we moved to Odessa. But they never came home."

"They died?"

"No they uh...they left me. My parents never loved me anyway, so they saw it as their ticket out of responsibility," she explained, her voice cracking under the weight of her tears.

"Your parents just...abandoned you? At sixteen?" he asked, dumbfounded by her confession.

"Mike, you promised you wouldn't make a big deal," she whispered.

"This is me NOT making a big deal out of it. You can't expect me to not feel some indignation over this," he said, pulling into the school parking lot.

She climbed out of the car. "I should go find a seat."

"Just sit on the bench with the coach. I want to keep taking about this," he demanded.

"I'm done talking about it and I don't think Coach Gaines will let me sit on the player's bench," she snapped.

"He already said you could. Why do you think he let me go get you? Just go sit down and enjoy the game," he said, rushing over to give her a quick kiss. "I gotta go Roxy. See you after the game."

She rolled her eyes and started towards the bench. "Like this is going to keep us a secret!"

He turned and began jogging backwards. "Billingsley and Chavo already know about us babe!" he called out, blowing her a kiss.

She huffed and stomped over to the bench, plopping herself down, rather violently, next to Coach Gaines. He looked over at her, unsure of how to react. Finally, he held out his hand for her to shake. Roxy took it firmly, shaking it with forced enthusiasm. She smiled at the main who took up all of Mike's time, recognizing his coaching qualities instantly. He was by no means an intimidating man, but she knew his looks concealed a true leader, one who could inspire even the hardest of people. It was safe to say that she liked him instantly, even through her irritation for Mike's determination to talk about her parents. As much as Roxy wanted to stay mad at him, she knew his interest was valid. If he had said his parents abandoned him, she'd force the whole story out of him too. So she admitted a quiet defeat and combed her fingers through her messy red hair.

"So you're the other woman in Mike Winchell's life," Coach Gaines stated with a curious smile.

Roxy turned to face him, unable to hide her confusion in time. "I'm sorry, what?"

He chuckled. "The other woman. Before you came along, Mike was devoted to one woman. No one in Odessa could have his attention."

She smiled then, knowing exactly what he was talking about. "You mean his mother, right?"

He nodded. "I do. It's common knowledge that there was no room in his life for a girlfriend. So what did you do?"

Roxy pondered her answer for what seemed like ages, before finally, her smile grew and she said: "I showed up I guess."

The coach threw back his head and laughed a loud bellowing laugh that was instantly swallowed by the sounds of the crowd. From his place at the edge of the field, Mike watch them. Billingsley stood beside him, also surveying the scene in front of him. He let out a low whistle, signalling that he was impressed with what he saw. Mike turned to him, not needing to voice his questions. Don smiled and pulled on his gloves.

"Special girl you got Mike. She even makes Coach throw back his head and laugh," he stated.

"So? What's your point Billingsley?" Mike asked.

"How does your mom feel about her?"

"Roxy hasn't met my mom. We've only been together for a week," Mike explained, watching Roxy warm up to Gaines.

"You've known each other for over a year. You're telling me she hasn't been to your house once?" Don inquired.

"No one's been to my house Don. You know that," he sighed.

"You let another girl into your life without your mom knowing about it? Wow. You've changed Winchell," Don teased, slapping Mike on the back. "Why don't you just do her and get it over with?"

"It's not like that Billingsley, alright? I like her. We don't all sleep with whoever puts up with our pathetic parents," he snapped.

Don clenched his jaw, knowing full well that Mike was talking about his abusive father. As soon as the comment had left his mouth, Mike regretted it. He let out a sigh and bounced on the balls of his feet, shaking his arms out.

"I'm sorry Donnie, I didn't mean that," he stated, turning to face him.

Don heard the sincerity in his voice and nodded. "I know. I didn't-as long as she makes you happy, right?"

Mike nodded, turning back to watch her. "Right. Kinda like how Jos-"

"Don't say her name. It just brings back all this hurt and anger I don't want to face," he stated, holding up a hand to cut him off. "That's why I do the things I do. And because my dad is fucked up."

The corner of Mike's mouth twitched up in the form of a smile. "No one here judges you for him."

"Thanks Mike. That means more than you think it does," he said, just loud enough for Mike to hear. "Let's go kick some ass."


	6. Chapter 6

CandieBabie03: Well, here you are my dear. Another chapter. And please don't kill me. I promise there's a reason for it. I'm not bored with Mike and she's not going to hook up with Billingsley...although he is gorgeous. I'm writing a seperate story for that sexy specimen.

sadvirtue: Glad you like the story and thanks for the review.

Larien-darlene: As promised, here is chapter six. Have no fear. I will not quit on this story until it is complete.

* * *

But they didn't kick ass. It was the other team that did the ass kicking. Since Roxy was on the sidelines, she was unwillingly thrown into the anger and frustration of Coach Gaines and the players who weren't in the game when the final seconds of the clock ticked away. They didn't say it outright, but Roxy knew the second and third string players blamed Mike for the loss. Admittedly, she had seen him play better, but she didn't feel it was right to place the blame on one person. Coach Gaines must have seen the frown on her face and her furrowed brow because he pulled her aside as the benched players stalked off to the locker room. She bit her bottom lip, glancing up at him. He cast a reassuring smile in her direction and tapped the rolled up sheet of paper against his open palm.

"I don't blame him for the loss. He'll think I do, but I really don't," he stated.

"It's not like you give him reason not to. Sure, you're a great coach and you get the job done. But did you really have to tell him he looked like the village idiot out there?" she inquired.

"Well he did," he replied with a small smile. "It's tough love."

Roxy sighed and raked her fingers through her hair. "I should go and see him. He'll need to know that someone doesn't blame him for the loss. He's very sensitive about that sort of thing I guess."

"You should sit down here more often. It relaxes him when he doesn't have to search the stands for you," he pointed.

"Maybe too much," she chuckled pointing to the scoreboard.

For the second time that night, Gary Gaines threw back his head and laughed. And, for the second time that night, the action was observed by Don Billingsley and Mike Winchell, who were standing in the shadows of the cold stone hallway leading to the locker room. Don turned to Mike, watching him for a reaction, but his face was blank and his eyes were virtually unreadable. At least to someone as unobservant as Don. Had he actually been able to read people, Don would have known that Roxy's sudden closeness with his football coach upset him and it was his inability to explain why, that really bothered him. But Don remained blissfully ignorant and turned back toward the field as they approached them.

"What do you think she's saying that's making him laugh so hard?" Mike asked.

Don shrugged. "Who cares? Probably some stupid bullshit girls say to be funny."

Mike cast him a sideways glance. "I care Billingsley. What if they're talking about me?"

"I doubt you have to worry about that Mike," Don replied.

"What makes you say that?" he inquired.

"Nothing about you is THAT funny," Billingsley stated, clapping Mike on the back.

Mike frowned, following him into the locker room. He tried to think of a good comeback, but instead remained silent. There was no point in defending himself. Billingsley wouldn't have listened anyway. He sighed, pushing past Don into the locker room and sulked all the way to his locker. Coach Gaines was quick to follow and soon the team was immersed in a lecture on winning and losing. While he talked, Mike silently prayed that he would talk so long, Roxy would get sick of waiting and go home. But he knew that wouldn't happen. Don looked over at the distressed quarter back, chewing on his lower lip, and frowned. Mike was suddenly much more interesting than Coach Gaines, so Don watched him. Finally, Mike huffed and looked over at Don.

"Is there something you want to say?" he hissed.

"What is your problem? You have a hot girl waiting for you outside and you're in here chewing your mouth off. Do you honestly think she is going to be that upset that we lost?" Don inquired.

"No. No, actually she says she doesn't care enough about them. It's…I don't know, Don. Roxy's great, really she is, but maybe I rushed it," Mike sighed, running his fingers through his hair.

Don looked at his friend, brow furrowed and mouth gaping open in an attractive mix of confusion, shock and disbelief. "Rushed into WHAT exactly, Mike? The first relationship you've ever had? This joke of a night we called a football game? The school year; this season? What? Because from where I'm sitting, you're doing just fine."

"You don't get it, Don. There's a reason WHY I've never had a girlfriend. So yeah, maybe I rushed it a bit because I'm a little tired of what people are saying about me," he snapped.

"Oh right, right. People talk about your mom being crazy, so you rush yourself into a relationship with the first girl who will have you. Smart plan Mike. That'll make 'em stop whispering. If you want people to stop saying your mom is crazy, you have people over every now and then. People like the girlfriend you rushed yourself into having. And another thing I don't get: why are you so desperate to hide this relationship, if you're trying to prove something to the people in this town? You are a walking contradiction Winchell. I think the only person you're trying to prove something to is yourself," Don lectured, watching Coach Gaines leave the room. "Think about that for a bit."

Mike stood and began to slowly undress. Don Billingsley had actually given someone some usable advice. Smart, usable advice at that. He knew he was with Roxy for all the wrong reasons, but he also knew that he really did have feelings for her. What he didn't know was what to do with them. He was aware of Don's eyes on him as he pulled on his jeans and violently shoved his equipment in his locker. Any other night he would have questioned Don about his lingering stare, but as he slammed the door of his locker shut and shouldered his bag, he was determined to focus his feelings for the redhead waiting for him outside the door. Mike nodded his goodbye to Don, who seemed to know what Mike was about to do. As he passed, Don grabbed Mike's upper arm.

"Think about what you're about to do Mike. Is this season really worth it?" he whispered. "Don't let what they say get to you."

Mike looked up at his team-mate, overwhelming confusion drowning out the life in his blue eyes. "I really don't know if this season is worth anything and I don't want her to be a part of something like this. I thought I could…she…this is not what she deserves Don. We both know it."

Don nodded and let his arm go. "Maybe she'll understand, if you say all the right things."

"We both know I'm not good with words."

And with that, Mike sulked out of the locker room, not bothering to delay the inevitable. When he pushed open the door and saw her leaning against the wall waiting for him, he almost turned and ran down the opposite end of the hall. But he sucked in a sharp breath and walked up to her. She pushed herself off the wall and wrapped her arms around him, trying to assure him that it wasn't his fault the team lost. The gesture brought tears to his eyes but he quickly blinked them away. It was now or never and he knew it. When she pulled back to place a comforting kiss on his lips, he turned his head.

"Wow, that was subtle," she stated, breaking all contact with him and pushing him to a distance. "Maybe I'll get a ride home with Don."

"Don't do that. I can take you home," he sighed, reaching out to touch her shoulder, but she shrugged him off and turned her back to him.

"Don't touch me. I don't want you to take me home," she snapped. "If this is because you lost tonight Mike, I already told you that I didn't-"

"It has nothing to do with the game. Well, it does, but there's more to this than a score."

She turned back to face him. "Alright. You don't want this relationship after all. I should have known that when you said to keep us a secret from everyone."

"Roxy, I do want this relationship. I just…do you have so much going on in your head that you don't know if you're in a dream or reality? So much that you just can't make sense of it all?" he asked, hoping she would understand.

She nodded. "After my parents left me, I didn't know if I was coming or going. I thought any day that they would come back and it would have been some really sick joke."

"How long did it take you to get over it and feel right again?" he inquired.

"I still don't feel right. But the haze I'd wandered into cleared up once I accepted that they weren't coming home," she replied. "So if you want to put this on hold while you figure things out, I understand. But only until after the football season. After that if you still haven't figured out what you want, then I'm moving on with or without you Mike. And I really am making Don drive me home tonight."

He kissed her cheek, letting his hand on her hip linger a little longer than necessary. "I'm sorry that I put you through this stress as much as I did. But um…can I ask you something?"

"Anything Mike. You know that," she said, snaking her arm around his waist as they walked out.

"Do we still get to be friends or do we have to stop talking until my mind is right?"

"Communication of any kind is against the rules Mike. Don't you know that?"

"Oh. Alright well, I'll miss seeing you but- why are you laughing? Is this really that funny to you?"

"Of course we can still be friends Mike! As far as I'm concerned, I'm still yours. You just need…about four months of space," she giggled. "You really don't have any idea about relationships do you?"

He shook his head and opened his door. "I've never been in one before, but I have a feeling they don't all go on hiatus this easily."

"Hell no Winchell. I definitely let you off easy. Now, take me home and smile for Christ's sake. So what if you lost? You'll win the next four games. Hell you'll even win state," she stated with a bright smile.

"You really think we can win state?" he asked.

"There's not a doubt in my mind," she replied. "Start giving yourself more credit Mike. You're better than you let them say you are. Prove them all wrong. I bet when you do that, you won't feel so lost."

"And you'll wait for that?"

"Yeah I would. Because you're worth waiting for, despite what you think," she whispered, taking a few steps back and shoving her hands in her back pockets.

"Are you sure I can't give you a ride home?"

"Don't worry about it. Billingsley is more on my way home anyway. He'll be cool with it. Go. Be with your mom and let her know you're going to win state," she ordered.

The corner of his mouth twitched into a half smile. "Yes ma'am. Thanks for understanding Roxy."

She returned his smile. "Anytime Mike. Thanks for not bugging me about my parents."

"Anytime Roxy."


	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N: Sorry this took so long guys. I had the WORST case of writer's block. I still have no idea what I'm doing with Mike and Roxy, but I do know that they are about to go through the biggest challenge that neither of them need if they want to be together. I hope you enjoy this chapter; it was hell to write but I needed to get it out and hopefull start the FNL flow again. Thanks for reading!**_

_**DISCLAIMER: DO NOT OWN FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS**_

* * *

Roxy sat in the back of her drama class, chin cradled inthe palm of her hand. She stared out the window, watching squirrells rush to grab enough food for the fast approaching winter season, despite the humid atmosphere. Their methodical scurrying had become much more enthralling than Ms. Davis' lecture on Vaudeville and through such dristraction, she had failed to notice all eyes were on here. It wasn't until Ms. Davis cleared her throat, standing over her desk, that Roxy noticed. She looked up at her teacher, no acceptable reason for her blatent lack of attention.

"Miss. Chadwick. Am I distracting you from the bushy tailed rodents outside of our classroom?" she inquired, eyebrow severely raised on her forehead.

She sighed. "No Ms. Davis. I was actually just...thinking."

"I suppose it would be wishful thinking to assume it was about Vaudeville?" Roxy nodded. "I assumed as much. Well do you mind informing everyone what was more important?"

"Not really, no," Roxy replied.

A hint of a smile flickered over Ms. Davis' lips. "That's a shame. I'll have to send you to the office then."

"Fair enough. I won't make a habit of this though. I promise," she stated, gathering her things and walking from the room.

As Roxy walked down the hall, she watched her feet, staring hard at the laces of her beat up Chuck Taylors. Other pairs of feet passed by her line of sight after the bell signalled the end of the day, but she never looked up. She became so wrapped up in her shoes that she forgot she was sharing the hall with hundreds of otehr students. Her lack of observation led her right into the broad chest of Don Bilingsley, who was rushing to get to his locker. He knocked her backwards, sending her crashing to the ground. She clenched her teeth together and jutted out the lower part of her jaw as she gathered her stuff for the second time in three minutes. Don knelt down to help her but stopped when he caught the shine of tears in her eyes.

"Roxy are you-"

"I'm fine Don," she assured him, brushing his hands aside.

"Liar," he said bluntly.

Her head shot up and she dropped her papers on the floor. "I am NOT lying. I'm fine. Just distracted."

"Distracted because of Mike?" he inquired, sweeping her papers into her binder

"No! Mike is-he has nothing to do with it," she snapped, grabbing the binder out of his hand. "Even if he is a giant douchebag."

Don snickered. "I don't think he'd take kindly to that Roxy."

"Yeah well," she huffed, shoving the binder in her bag and jumping up. "I didn't take kindly to being played by your quarterback, just because he's trying to prove a point."

"Come on Roxy. You know that's not what it was about. He didn't use you. That's something I'd do, not Mike," Don said, turning to walk with her.

"Wow Don. You realize comments like that are the reason you're single?"

"I'm single because I choose to be. But seriously. Winchell's just-he needs to make it through the season before he can think about anything else," he explained.

She scoffed. "I wouldn't know anything about it. He hasn't spoken to me in two weeks."

Don shrugged. "Maybe he's scared you'll call him a douchebag."

Roxy laughed and turned to enter the combination into her locker. "I can imagine. But I need to talk to him. Since he's avoiding all contact with me, I need you to give him this letter for me."

"What's it say?" he asked, taking the white envelope she seemed to produce from nowhere.

"Dear Mike; I'm heading north for two weeks for a dance course. This is the only way I could tell you because you're avoiding me, which is quite petty and childish I might add. Good luck in your next few games. I still believe you guys can take state, even without Boobie. Be the leader we both know you have in you and win. I'll see you when I get back at the end of the month. I know you can do this Mike Winchell. Hugs and kisses, Roxy," she replied without batting an eye. "P.S: Billingsley is too nosey for his own good."

He reached out and ruffled her red hair. "Smartass. You're not going to say goodbye to him?"

She shrugged. "This was his choice, not mine. Besides, it's not goodbye."

"I don't think you leaving town for two weeks without a word is his choice. That's you letting his stupidity get in the way," he stated. "When do you leave?"

"Tonight," she replied. "After the game."

"And you're going to that game?"

She rolled her eyes, slamming her locker closed. "Obviously I am or I wouldn't have said 'after the game' Billingsley."

"Look Roxy. I'll give Mike your letter. But I really think you should say goodbye in person," he sighed, raking his fingers through his hair.

"Let me make my own choices dad," she grumbled. "I need to go or I'll miss my bus."

Don shook his head. "Let me give you a ride."

"You'll miss practice and you won't get to play. The bus is fine Don," she said, kissing his cheek. "I'll see you tonight at the game."

---

Roxy shoved her dance tights into her duffel bag and was in the midst of pulling her thick hair into a ponytail when the phone rang. With a leaden sigh, she marched across the hall to her father's old study and snatched up the receiver. Before she could think of the right words to say, in case it was Mike calling, on's voice leapt through the earpiece, nearly deafening and knocking her back a few steps.

"Roxy! You can't leave yet!" he bellowed.

"Do tell me. Why?" she demanded.

"Because I-"

"I swear to God Don if you're going to tell me you love me, I will-"

"Stuff it Roxy. Don't flatter yourself. I gave Mike your letter after the game and he's on his way to your house right now," he stated.

"Oh," she said, breathing out a sight of relief. Then she realized the potentially explosive situation storming toward her house. "Oh shit. Don, what am I going to do?"

"Well, you COULD try talking to him. That's my personal suggestion. And refrain from calling him childish again. He's more grown up than we both know and that's the absolute worst thing you could say to him. Go easy on him Roxy. He really is trying to do the right thing," Don explained, a pleading undertone to his words.

She sighed, rubbing her tense forehead. "Yeah. Yeah you're right. Thanks for calling Don."

Roxy hung up the phone and galloped down the stairs to pack snacks for her train ride. The second her barefoot hit the warm hardwood floor, a loud pounding erupted through her quiet, empty house. She called out for her visitor to come in, knowing full well it was Mike on the other side of the door. She expected him to barge in, nostrils flaring and eyes ablaze with rage, but instead he pushed the door open only enough so he could squeeze through and closed it just as gently. He looked over at her and she froze, caught up in the headlights that were his deep blue eyes. As she stood, stopped dead in her tracks, she felt herself pulling toward him, not wanting to ever be away from his presence.

"Were you going to say goodbye?" he asked, folding and refolding her note. "I mean...in person and not in the form of a letter?"

"You're not childish," she blurted.

"I didn't ask you if I was," he said, shoving the note in his pocket. "Were you going to say goodbye to me?"

"People only say goodbye if they're permanently going away. I'll be back in time for the playoffs," she explained, rubbing her tired eyes.

"That's not the point Roxy. You told Don before you told me. And you told me through a note, that you got him to deliver. Did you take our...break up?" She nodded. "Alright. Did you take our break up so well because you-"

"Do not finish that sentence if you want to keep your throwing arm Mike Winchell. If that's what I wanted, I would have made my move when I was tutoring him. I took it well because you were right. And because I didn't want you to know how much it really bothered me," she confessed, looking down at her toes.

"Roxy, I haven't stopped liking you. I'm just too stressed out to be with anyone," he said.

She smiled. "You don't need to prove yourself to me Mike. Deal with your stressors. Then come and find me when you do."

"Be careful. Up north. It can be dangerous for a girl like you," he warned. "City guys just don't care what they do."

"You're sweet to care," she whispered, top toeing up to him and kissing him softly on the lips. "But nothing is going to happen to me. I'll be fine. Back in two weeks."

"If something happens, call me, alright?"

She rolled her eyes. "That'll do wonders for your stress level Mike."

He grabbed her shoulders, peering into her eyes. "I'm serious Roxy. Anything at all, anytime of day. Call, alright?"

"OK. I'll call you if something happens. I have to go though. I can't miss this train," she announced.

"I can drive you to the station if you'd like?" he suggested, following her into the kitchen.

She nodded. "I'd really like that Mike."

He smiled, looking down at his hands. As he watched her putter around the kitchen, all he could think about was how much he loved her, and wanted to do anything to make her happy. His thoughts were instantly blown away when he remembered that the only person he had room for in his life was his mother. With a deafeated sigh, he ambled into the living room to wait for Roxy so he could drive her to the train station.


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: Wow! I am SO sorry this took so long guys. I moved a couple months ago and didn't get internet on my computer until just a couple weeks ago. Ever since then I've been trying desperately to update. So here is the long overdue update for Be Perfect and I appreciate the patience you guys have. I hope you enjoy this chapter. And I promise things will start looking up for Mike and Roxy in the next few chapters._

* * *

Her hands shook as she pulled a quarter from the pocket of her freshly torn jeans. Through her tears, she struggled to dial the number. After three failed attempts, she took a deep breath to calm her nerves. She slowed her breathing enough to control the tremors in her hands as she dialled the number for the fourth time. She took another deep breath then, listening to the monotonous ringing and praying he would answer so late at night. He was the last person she wanted to see her in her current state, but he was also the only person she could trust enough to drive six hours north and bring her home. After an eternity to her, his voice broke the drone of the phone. When he said hello, her heart swelled with hope and she almost started sobbing again.

"It's Roxy," she whispered. "I um…how was your game?"

"We won, just like you said we would. But is that why you called?" he asked, a thick layer of fatigue blanketing his words.

"No," she confessed, leaning against the phone booth. "I called for another reason. One you probably won't like."

He was awake then; she knew before he spoke. "What happened? Where are you?"

"I'm still north. But I need to come home. I can't…I just need to be home, with you," she cried, tears splashing onto her bare chest.

"What happened?" he repeated.

"I don't want to tell you over the phone," she whispered.

"I'm coming to get you. Where will you be?"

After giving him directions to her hotel, Roxy hung up the phone. Seconds later, she collapsed in the booth, sobbing into her hands. Ten minutes passed and she did nothing but cry. Each time she looked up at the phone, she longed to call her parents and have them tell her it wasn't her fault. But she was no longer their child; they were no longer her parents. If she called, they would acknowledge her in the way they always had: cold, detached and irritated. She wasn't a daughter. She was an inconvenient mistake. Had they ever loved her? Maybe. A long time ago. Before the novelty of having a daughter wore off. Her sobs had progressively worsened the more she thought about her parents. A knock on the phone booth window sent her three feet in the air. When she turned, she found a middle-aged woman staring down at her.

"Are you alright?" she inquired.

Roxy nodded, subtly wiping her eyes. "Fine, thank you ma'am."

The woman smiled warmly down at her. "Do you need a ride anywhere?"

"I was thinking of taking the bus but…"

"You can't trust the kind of people you'll meet on the bus at this hour. I'll give you a ride," she insisted.

Roxy bit her lip, but nodded despite her apprehension. She followed the woman to her car and climbed into the front seat, giving out the directions for the second time that night. The woman introduced herself as Joanna shortly after starting the car, encouraging conversation. Roxy humoured her only because she was being so kind. She was all the while aware of how she must have looked to Joanna. Her shirt was torn open, the buttons lost forever in the back roads of North Texas. The space where her wrists has been bound was an angry red ring of raw and she was sure her bottom lip was leaking blood. Her jeans had torn in desperate, feeble attempts to escape before finally giving in. Roxy sighed and looked out the window, pressing her forehead against the cool glass.

"Thank you Joanna. For the ride," she stated.

"It happened to me too you know," she confessed, glancing over at her battered passenger.

Roxy stiffened at her words. "I don't-what?"

"When I was your age in fact. Walking home from school. He was on the basketball team and no one believed me," she continued. "Denying it won't make it go away Roxy. Trust me on that."

"I…they were all supposed to be my friends," Roxy whispered, more confused than anything. "But they set it up for him. I should have known they didn't actually like me."

"Why should you have known? A girl shouldn't have to go through life suspecting that her friends will turn on her," Joanna stated firmly. "This was not your fault."

Roxy let her tears fall then. It had been what she wanted to hear all night. "I really needed to hear that," she admitted, letting a small chuckle escape her.

Joanna smiled, pulling in to the hotel parking lot. "I know you did Roxy. I really hope you have someone special back home who can help you through this."

"I do Joanna. I really do," she stated, believing it for the first time in her life. "Thank you, for the ride and…thank you."

She closed the door on Joanna, waving as the woman pulled out of sight. With a heavy sigh and a nervous glance over her shoulder, Roxy rushed into her room and locked the door. She fell against the cold lacquered door and slid to the floor, burying her face in her hands. Another sigh escaped her as she swallowed more tears and made her way to the bed. She picked up the phone and made a call down to the manager at the front desk, informing him of her visitor and requesting that he let the young man in her room when he arrives. After she hung up the phone she promptly passed out on the plush bedspread, finally realizing just how exhausted she really was.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Hey guys! Sorry this chapter is so short. I just wanted to get this out before the head back to Odessa. So I apologize again for the short length of this chapter. But enjoy and hopefully I will have another update up quickly. Enjoy guys!**

* * *

Mike pushed the door open to the dimly lit hotel room. He entered the room and found Roxy asleep on the bed, curled into a ball. The condition of her clothes did not go unnoticed by him. Mike crossed the room and sat next to her sleeping form. His weight shifted the bed, alerting Roxy of his presence. She stirred, slowly opening her eyes on the area. When she saw Mike looking down at her, she smiled through a yawn. He returned the smile and placed a warm hand on her bare side. With a small groan, Roxy propped herself up on her elbows and placed a hand on his knee.

"Hey Mike," she whispered. "Thanks for coming."

He gave her hip a gentle squeeze. "What happened last night Roxy?"

"Wasting no time with small talk I see," she sighed, sitting up completely.

"Your eye. Roxy, what happened?" he inquired, brushing her hair from her face.

"Can we talk about this when we get back to Odessa?"

He shook his head. "I drove all night. If you don't want to tell me know, then I'll just sleep until you're ready."

"Uh…that's it? You aren't going to demand that I tell you?" she asked.

"I can't make you talk to me yet. I respect your right to privacy, as frustrating as it is. But I will demand that you lay with me while I sleep," he explained, tossing his coat on the floor.

She smiled, watching him pull the covers back. "Why do you want me to lay with you? You broke up with me."

"I miss you Roxy, that's why," he confessed.

She didn't want to admit it as freely as he had, but Roxy missed Mike too in the short time they'd been apart. As she looked into his eyes, she began to cry. After a night of locking her rage and frustration away, it attacked her, just as they had the night before. Mike pulled her into his arms without hesitation and let her sob into his chest. She wanted to tell him; knew he deserved it after driving through the night to be with her. She knew that he was the only person she trusted, he was the first and only person she thought to call. And before she could realize what she was doing, the dreaded words came tumbling from her mouth.

"Mike, my dance instructor raped me last night," she whispered, feeling his body tense instantly.

"Why did no one stop him?" he demanded.

Roxy looked down at the floor as she spoke, afraid to see the look in his eyes. "He told them not to. And they listened. Mike they just…those selfish bitches stood there and let him do that to me."

"I'm sorry Roxy. I'm so sorry that you had to go through that. I really don't know what else to say without sounding like a fool," he sighed, stroking her hair.

"It's alright Mike. I never meant to just blurt it out for you," she sniffed, wiping her nose.

"Can you promise me something?"

"Sure Mike. What is it?"

He pushed her back so he could look into her eyes. "Promise me you won't run from this. If you run it'll follow you everywhere."

"How do you know that?" she inquired, wiping her eyes with the heel of her hand.

"It's why my sister left Odessa. She wasn't raped though. One of her high school teachers abused her so she left Odessa as soon as she graduated. She only ever told me that it happened. No one else knows, not even my mom. No matter how hard I try, she won't ever come back," he revealed. "So please don't run from it. Tell the police so he can't do it to someone else."

"What did I ever do to deserve someone as perfect as you Mike Winchell?" she wondered aloud.

He smiled, looking over at the pillows to conceal the flush of his cheeks. 'I ask myself the same question about you Roxy,' he thought, burying himself under the covers. After a quick check to assure the door was locked, she crawled under the blanket with him and snuggled against his warm body. Mike draped his arm over her, eager to protect her from any other dangers that may come their way. Minutes later, their breathing synched up and both were fast asleep while the world outside was just starting their day.


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: Another short one. I KNOW! I'm sorry! I blame writer's block. This is the best I could get out in th haze of my struggling brain. But I'm sort of getting my steam back on this one. Any ideas are welcome of course, so if you have any, message me or put them in reviews...if there are any. Oh boy...there I go getting ahead of myself. Well...enjoy anyway!!_

* * *

School regained importance in her life. The weekends were no longer about dance. They were about supporting the Panthers on their quest to State. Without Boobie, the team was blossoming into a well oiled machine. Confidence grew inside them as they all realized that they didn't need Boobie for skill. They were division leaders now, going into the last game before the playoffs. If they won, they would go right to the playoffs. But if they lost, their lead would suddenly become a three way tie. The pressure Mike usually felt before game time was nothing compared to what he was feeling as he lay on the couch with Roxy, late Thursday night. She had been spending more and more time at his house since they got back to Odessa. After school, they would go to his place and more often then not she would fall asleep as they lay together in his bed, talking about everything but dance. Mike was saddened by her sudden lack on interest in her usual play list of show tunes but he said nothing. So they lay on his couch now watching TV, him rubbing the back of her hand with the pad of his thumb while she stared vacantly at the screen. His mom had long gone to bed, leaving the two of them in their comfortable silence. With a sigh, Roxy rolled over and snuggled against him, breathing in the clean smell of his grey t-shirt. Her eyes closed under the weight of her fatigue as Mike absentmindedly rubbed her back.

"I don't want to lose you again Roxy," he murmured, resting his chin on the top of her head.

"You aren't going to Mike," she stated, hooking her free arm around his waist. "Provided you don't dump me again."

He chuckled. "It's not a plan I had in mind."

"Then what are you worried about?" she asked, wiggling back enough so she could look up at him.

"We might lose this next game," he replied, not looking down at her.

"It's possible, yeah. But I'm not going to leave you if you guys don't get in the playoffs. You are forgetting Mike Winchell, that I don't give a rat's ass about the championship status of the Permian Panthers," she said, placing a hand on the side of his face.

"I just find it hard to believe that someone in Odessa doesn't breathe state," he sighed. "But you really won't leave me if we lose the game tomorrow?"

She rolled onto her stomach and propped herself up with her elbows. "Mike, you're not all football. You have a life outside of it, even if you don't want one. I know that this is important to your mom. She wants to see you succeed and get the hell out of here. But there's more than one ticket out of Odessa. Even for you."

He smiled and placed his hand on her hip. "What are you going to do after high school?"

Her eyes immediately lost focus. "I don't know. I'll think of something."

He sighed and draped his arm over her body, knowing that was going to be the best answer he would get out of her for a while. The fatigue she was feeling leaked from her pores and seeped into his body. His eyelids immediately drooped as their conversation died down to nothing more than gentle touches. Soon they were both asleep on the couch, unaware that Mike's mom stood in the doorway to the living room. She wore a knowing smiled as she gazed fondly at the two teenagers snuggled so closely together. Tears rimmed her eyes as she began to realize that Mike would be leaving her soon; growing up and living his life after Odessa. She wanted nothing more for her little boy. A good football scholarship and the kind of relationship she never had with his father. She padded lightly into the room to turn off the TV, trying not to wake her son. But he was a lighter sleeper than she had counted on and the second he sensed her presence, his eyes fluttered open.

"Ma? Why are you up so late?" he whispered, shifting on the couch so his arm wasn't under Roxy's head.

She smiled. "Just turning off the TV Mike. It's alright. Go back to sleep."

He rubbed his eyes and stifled a yawn. "I'm scared about tomorrow Ma."

"You'll do great baby. I know you will," she cooed, running her fingers through his hair.

"But what if I let them all down? I can't be the reason we lose tomorrow," he stated, sitting up.

"Who says you're going to lose Mike? And if you do, so be it." She looked down at the sleeping form of Roxy. "Do you think she'll hate you?"

He shook his head. "No. I think Roxy is the only person I can turn to if we do lose. I can count on her to be there for me and tell me it's not the end of the world if we don't win that game."

She smiled warmly at her son, feeling the love he had for Roxy, even if he didn't feel it himself. "Then why are you still worried?"

"Because she's just one person in this football crazed, state championship starved town," he replied, standing to scoop her into his arms. "But I love her for trying."

"Everything will work out in the end honey."

He allowed his mom a small smile. "Good night Ma."

"Good night Mike."


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: Another update! . I am on a role! Actually I felt like I needed to update after I gave you such a short chapte last time and you were very good about it. This one is longer, with a nice happy ending that I think you will all like! So, here is chapter eleven. Whee!!! Almost state time!_

* * *

Roxy stared blankly out at the football field. The practice that carried on around her went unnoticed. But Mike had asked her to go, so she went to support him. After all, it was the last regular season game and all their hopes of the playoffs were riding on that night. Coach Gaines, always the keen observer of human behaviour, noticed her mental absence. He turned the practice over to the assistant coach and marched up to the bench where she sat alone. With an exaggerated sigh, he sat down beside her. They stared out at the busy field together, acknowledging her need to talk. After ten minutes of a very tense silence, Gary cleared his throat.

"You're lucky Mike doesn't argue. Now if you were with Billingsley, you'd have a real fight on your hands," he stated, not taking his eyes off the players.

She chuckled, watching Mike tackle an opponent. "Anyone would have a fight on their hands with him."

"Have you talked to anyone about this thing that's bothering you?" he inquired, finally turning to look at her.

"I sort of told Mike what happened. But I haven't actually _talked_ about it," she admitted, brushing hair from her noticeably thinner face. "I wish I could though."

"Why don't you talk to your parents?" She scoffed. "You don't think they'd listen?"

"I don't know where my parents are, Coach Gaines. They abandoned me a year and a half ago," she confessed, blinking back tears.

"I'm sorry Roxy. Every girl should have a father to protect her," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"I'd be lost without Mike. He's been so good to me these past few months. Especially the weeks since it happened," she sighed.

Gary watched her stare adoringly at the shy quarterback. "I'd bet anything that he thinks the same thing about you. A coach can only do so much to convince a player he's worth it. Ever since we lost Boobie, Mike's become the leader he should be. Yeah it took him a while, but he's there."

She turned to face him. "Well I had nothing to do with that."

He raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "You didn't? My mistake. Mike must know another Roxy who tells him everyday that he's worth something."

"He told you I said that?" she asked, covering the red glow of her cheeks. "I didn't think it meant that much to him."

"Mike's mom, God love her, has spent his whole life cramming Odessa football down his throat. He's believed it was the only important thing in his life and he wasn't much if he wasn't good at it. Then you came along and turned his whole life upside down by telling him there's an entire life outside of football."

"Well it's true," she mumbled. "I mean, no offence to you Coach Gaines."

He laughed. "None taken. You're right and Mike shouldn't be expected to be perfect."

"Do you ever tell him that?" she inquired.

"I'm sorry to say that I don't. Odessa gets the best of me on Friday nights," he admitted.

She smiled, turning back to look at Mike. "That's alright. No one expects you to be perfect."

He chuckled. "Not at all. Only the entire town."

"But they're all living vicariously through their children and this team. Look at Don's father," she stated, standing up as practice came to an end. "He'll be living through Don until the day he dies."

"Roxy, if we lose tonight, don't let Mike beat himself up over it. We win as a team and we lose the same way," he stated.

"That's an idealistic way to look at it coach. I'm afraid the players don't feel the same way though," she sighed, meeting Mike on his way over to the bench.

Mike put his arms around her waist, placing a kiss on her lips. "What were you and Coach Gaines talking about?"

"Nothing really. What do you want to do before the game?" she asked, taking his hand in hers as they walked to the school.

"I just want to be with you Roxy. Let's just hang out and relax. This might be the last football game of my life," he answered.

"Don't be so dramatic Mike. This night will not end the world. It takes a whole team to lose," she groaned.

"You think we're going to lose?"

"I didn't say that. What I said was, it takes a whole team to lose. So if you guys do lose, don't place all the blame on yourself," she explained, squeezing his hand.

"But if we lose-" She clapped her free hand over his mouth.

"Enough! No more football talk until tonight. After the game you can talk my ear off about football. But for the next few hours, I want you all to myself," she demanded, pulling her hand away.

He smirked and pulled her into a hug. "Yes ma'am."

---

She watched the final play in stunned silence, along with the rest of the stadium. The Panthers had lost the game, forcing them back into three way tie for first. From her seat she could see the crushed look on Mike's face and knew instantly that he put himself at fault. But Roxy blamed Coach Gaines for letting Boobie suit up. It almost seemed like the team had forgotten they could be a team without him. Her anger for the coach was swept away when she saw the pained expression on his face. He blamed himself for the loss as well. And now the town was out for blood. As she pushed her way through the mob, she overheard bits and pieces of angry conversation.

"…shouldn't be allowed to coach…"

"…take his losing game plan and stick it up his…"

"…fucking idiot don't know shit about coaching a championship team…"

"He shoulda focused on making that Winchell boy a better leader."

The last comment sent Roxy into a rage. She began to shove people aside, abandoning her trek to see Mike. But as she broke through the crowd, she saw him waiting for her on the other side. He looked lost standing at the edge of the mini riot. His eyes were full of disappointment and sadness, which filled Roxy with her own anguish. She rushed to close the gap between them, opening her arms to embrace him. His arms circled around her lithe form and was surprised to feel the moisture of her tears.

"Roxy, what's wrong?" he asked, reluctantly pushing her back to look at her.

"You're such a good quarterback," she blurted, blinking tears away.

He smiled and brushed her tears away with the pads of his thumbs. "Thank you…but why is it making you cry?"

She sniffled and wiped her eyes. "Because not enough people appreciate you." She turned to face the angry mob. "It's a fucking game assholes!"

"Woah, woah," Mike urged, turning her to face him. "Calm down sweetie. We don't want them after us."

"What happens now Mike?" she inquired, looking up at him.

His chest swelled with emotion as he looked down at her. Her green eyes were glowing from her tears and she looked so concerned about him. "Coach Gaines and I uh…we have to flip a coin with Midland Lee and Cooper."

"A coin toss?" she asked, raising an eyebrow in disgust. "Your playoff fate is in the hands of a coin toss?"

He nodded. "Will you wait up for me? I want to tell you how it goes."

"You don't want me to watch with everyone else? Your mom?"

"My mom will be fine. I don't know why I don't want you to see. I guess I just don't want to disappoint you," he sighed, placing an arm around her waist. "Please?"

"If that's what you want. I'll go home and watch a movie," she said, resting her cheek on his chest.

Mike kissed her forehead. "Thank you Roxy. I shouldn't be too long. How long can a coin toss take, right?"

Coach Gaines cautiously approached the couple. "Are you ready to go Mike?"

He let out a quiet sigh of exasperation. "As ready as I'll ever be coach."

"I'll wait in the car then."

She leaned up and kissed him, pressing her body against him. "Good luck. I'll see you later."

"Later," he agreed, jogging to the car.

As she watched him, she was suddenly overwhelmed with feelings she had to express. "Mike!" she called out, sprinting after him.

When he turned, he found her standing in front of him. "Yeah?"

"I love you," she blurted, wishing she'd just left it at good bye as he stared at her.

"I love you too," he responded without skipping a beat.

"You do?" she asked dumbly.

"How could I not?" he countered, a broad smile on his face. "You're too perfect for me."

She laughed and blew him a kiss. "And you for me, Mike Winchell."


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: OK so maybe this chapter is a little fluffy...but don't you think Roxy and Mike could use some fluff? Well...I like it. I hope you guys do too! And I am typing up the update for my Don story as soon as I'm done this, and we all know how much THAT story needs an update :S. ENJOY THE UPDATE!!_

* * *

Mike knocked on her door, hoping she'd still be awake. He could hear music, which was both good and bad. Good, because she hadn't touched music since the attack, but bad because she wouldn't hear him knock. With a groan, he marched back to his car to rummage for the key she'd given him. He hadn't needed it for so long he'd almost forgotten where he'd put it. Finally, he found it under his seat. With a triumphant cry, he held it in the air and slammed the car door with his foot. When he turned, he found Roxy standing behind him, arms folded over her chest. Her body shook with contained giggles as she looked at him, lips clamped together to dam the laughter. Mike shoved his hands in his pockets and toed the gravel of her driveway.

"I heard your music and didn't think you'd hear me," he mumbled.

She smiled and wrapped her arms around him. "How did it go?"

"You're in your dance tights," he noted. "And listening to music. You already know how it went, don't you?"

"Um…" she started, looking down at the ground. "The radio was on while I was doing dishes. Honestly Mike, it never occurred to me."

"But…you hate your dance tights, and music has been out of your life for months," he observed, ignoring her answer.

She shrugged. "It's a reason worth dancing for."

He smiled, kissing her forehead. "So you're ok with dancing again?"

"Outside of Odessa, and with a female teacher," she stated. "And with an extreme amount of therapy."

"Have you actually talked to anyone about it? I don't want to push you, but you really should tell someone," he softly urged.

"I will. When I'm ready. I haven't had enough time to cope yet," she explained, walking towards her house.

"Don't rush yourself. When you're ready," he sighed, following her.

Once they were safely inside, she turned to him. "Congratulations on making the playoffs."

"Yeah on the great skill of coin tossing. It was great. You should have been there," he drawled, sarcastically.

She laughed as he put his arms around her waist. "Well now you can use your actual skills to wow the socks right off them."

Mike suddenly became very serious. "We'll play Dallas Carter if we win the playoffs."

"Is that bad? The only teams I know are the ones you've played," she stated.

"It's cute how oblivious you are to football," he teased. "Compared to us, they are giants."

"So? You've played big teams before."

"Alright Roxy honey, picture the biggest team we've played all season. Dallas Carter is three times bigger than them."

"Oh," she stated. "Well then it will be just that much sweeter when you beat them."

He smiled. "You have too much faith in us."

"You don't have enough," she shot back. "You never know. You could win state."

"There's a chance, yeah. But I don't want to talk about playoffs or state," he sighed, nuzzling her neck.

"Oh no?" she smirked, putting her arms around his waist and sliding her hands into his back pockets. "And what do you want to talk about?"

He smiled. "You; me; collectively known as us."

Roxy laughed. "I love you Mike."

"You do?" he teased, kissing her softly.

She shoved him back. "I do. And don't mock me because of my reaction to your quick draw response. I didn't see it coming."

"How could you not see it coming? Billingsley saw it and he doesn't even know what love is," Mike stated.

"That's not fair to Don. He's been through a lot in the love department," Roxy scolded. "I think he's still waiting for her to come back."

He sighed. "She's been gone for a long time Roxy."

"She could come back Mike," she said, dropping onto the couch.

"You're a hopeless romantic just like he is," he noted, dropping next to her.

"Even though you just said he doesn't know what love is?" she inquired.

He nodded. "Love and romance are two different things."

"No they aren't. You can't have romance without love," she countered.

"Oh yes you can. Girls, maybe not. But guys completely use romance to sucker girls into anything. They don't need love for that," he objected.

"You're actually serious?" He nodded again. "That's sick. Guys are horrible."

"Well, I still love you," he chuckled.

She turned to him. "Have you ever done that?"

"Never needed to, nor have I ever had the time," he replied.

"Would you?" she questioned.

"I don't need to Roxy. I have you and that's all I need," he answered.

She smirked. "That wouldn't be a romantic line would it?"

"You saw right through me," he laughed, kissing her cheek. "No Roxy. I know you aren't ready. I'll save my romance until you are, because when I bust it out, you won't be able to resist."

She rolled her eyes. "Please, spare me. Thank you though Mike."

"For what?"

"For not pressuring me," she whispered, snaking her arms around his waist and hugging him tight.

"I don't want to ruin this Roxy. I'm serious when I say that. I love you too much," he stated.

She blinked back tears. "No one's ever told me they loved me before."

"What about your parents? They must have said it."

"My parents didn't love me," she said flatly.

His own eyes stung with the bite of tears. "That's not right Roxy."

She shrugged. "I'm over it."

He lifted her chin so he could look into her eyes. "I love you Roxy. I hope you know that."

"I do know that," she nodded. "I just don't know why you would love someone whose parents didn't even want them."

"Roxy, look at me," he demanded, gripping her shoulders. "Fuck your parents."

"But-"

"No. Fuck them. They don't deserve to be parents. You are amazing," he stated.

"To who? To you, that's it," she mumbled.

"To me, to my mom…even Coach Gaines. Your parents ran out on you? My dad ran out on us when I was little to start a new family with some rich Yankee," he confessed.

"Really?" Mike nodded. "Why didn't you ever tell me that?"

"I wanted it to come up in a really big speech?"

She laughed as 'When I'm With You' came on the radio. "Dance with me, you big fool."

"But you don't dance with guys any more," he smiled, letting her pull him off the couch.

"For you I can make an exception," she stated, resting her cheek on his chest. "If I can't dance with you, why dance at all?"

He smiled and wrapped her in his arms, wishing she would stay there forever. She closed her eyes as the gently swayed with the music. The moment was too perfect for words and the sheer cheesiness almost made Roxy laugh, had she not realized how much she'd needed him. She'd needed to hear she was loved, despite her flaws and baggage. Mike, in turn, needed someone who wasn't afraid of a life outside of Odessa but would understand if he never left. Both teens let out quiet sighs of content at their thoughts. Mike hugged her tight and she looked up at him with a soft smile. Before either of them realized it had happened, they were sharing a kiss.

His hands wandered up her back and found themselves in her hair. Her tongue curiously pushed past his lips and ever so softly entered his mouth. One of his hands left the tangle of her hair and slid down her back, curving over the shape of her butt. His other hand moved to the base of her neck, allowing him to pull her tightly to his body. Roxy welcomed the closeness and arched her body just enough to touch her pelvis to his. It was an exciting warmth, one he acknowledged with a sharp inhale. The hem of his shirt had attracted the attention of her fingertips, which distractedly fiddled with the soft skin underneath the loose cotton. For his hands, the mission was not to fiddle with her shirt, but to get it off completely. When she offered him no protest, the shirt was removed with surprising ease and tossed carelessly on the floor. It was at that particular moment Mike regained his senses.

"No," he breathed, pulling back. "I don't want you to do this until you're ready."

"Until I'm…Mike, the last sexual encounter I had is not going to go away, as long as I live. But I refuse to let it actually BE the last sexual experience I ever have. I don't think about it when you're around," she stated.

"What do you think about when I'm around?" he inquired, sceptical of her response.

She lifted his shirt over his head and pressed her bare torso against his. "How amazing OUR sex will be."

He swallowed a lump in his throat and immediately found it in his pants. "Are you sure you want to…do this?"

"Are you?" He nodded. "Then stop trying to change my mind."

He nodded again and lifted her into his arms. Without another word, he carried her up the stairs to her room.


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N: Well, this was a long time coming wasn't it? And I don't even like it all that much, but I felt bad for not updating. Just some more fluff before the playoffs start and we get into the DRAMA that is Roxy's life. I hope you guys like this. I think it's cute. I am so in love with these two!_

* * *

The town was abuzz with pride. Their team still had a shot to take state. They didn't care that the Panthers didn't qualify based on their amazing skill throughout the season, instead making their way through because of a lucky break in a stupid coin toss. It infuriated Roxy that the town cared more about pressuring the team to win state as opposed to giving them praise for a well played regular season. The residents didn't even give the team a chance to be excited about the playoffs before they fell right back into telling Coach Gaines how to run the team, and making the players feel like Friday night wasn't important. Mike barely had a chance to relax before he felt the stress of the town's expectations again. It was Sunday now, two days after the coin toss, and the couple sat on the benches on the sidelines, staring out at the empty field. Not a word had been spoken between them in an hour as they sat, just enjoying each other's presence. Roxy slipped her arms around Mike's waist and rested her chin on his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close and kissing her forehead. With a tired sigh, Mike broke the silence.

"This is my last year on this field," he murmured.

"Are you sad about it?" she asked.

He shook his head. "No, I'm not." He was surprised by his answer.

She smiled and looked up at him. "I didn't think you would be."

"I'll still miss it from time to time. I met some of my best friends on this field," he explained.

"Mike, what do you want to do in college?" she inquired a question she hadn't asked him since their first date all those months ago.

"Not football," he admitted. "I want to be something more than what I am now."

"You always will be Mike," she said, sitting up and glancing over at an approaching figure.

"We should have some fun Roxy," he stated suddenly.

"You know what fun is?" she teased.

He shoved her backwards off the bench. "Yes I know what fun is."

She laughed, legs still on the seat. "Don't let your coach see you abusing your girlfriend."

Mike slid back and lay next to her. "It's not abuse if I love you."

"That doesn't make any sense, all star," she giggled, hooking her arm through his.

"It doesn't have to when you're this good looking," he said, linking their fingers together.

"I guess you really do know how to have fun. You should do it more often Mike. It suits you well," she said seriously, a warm smile on her face. "Although I don't know how I feel about this new ego you've suddenly discovered. It's more of a Billingsley thing."

He grinned and quickly kissed her. "I only have it when I'm with you. Do you want to go somewhere tonight? Leave Odessa and forget about state?"

"Where do you want to go?" she inquired, staring up at the blue sky. "I mean…we have school tomorrow. You have practice."

"Forget school and practice. Just once, I want to see a place that isn't about football," he groaned.

"Then we've got a long drive to make," she whispered.

"I'm up for it if you are," he stated, rolling onto his side to look at her.

"You're really serious aren't you? Mike, this is a crucial time for you guys. You don't think Coach Gaines would lose his mind if his starting quarterback just didn't show up to the next few practices?" she asked, putting her arms behind her head.

Before Mike could respond, there was a gentle clearing of a throat. "Can I suggest something?"

"Coach Gaines!" Mike exclaimed, jumping up to face his coach.

Gary smiled. "Howdy Mike. Afternoon Roxy."

Roxy nodded and smiled. "Hey coach. What's your suggestion?"

"Take the drive up north. Get away for a few days before things come down to the wire. Playoffs start next week," he explained.

"You won't mind?" Roxy asked.

"I'd rather have my starting quarterback relaxed and focused than have him worry about every little thing and stressing over it. That's what playoffs are for. You have my permission to miss a few practices Mike," Gary replied with a soft smile. "Plus I think Roxy could use the escape just as much as you."

Mike smiled and shook his coach's hand. "Thanks coach. I promise you won't regret this."

"I know I won't Mike. Do you mind if I talk to Roxy for a moment?" he requested.

"Um, not at all," Mike replied, quickly stealing a kiss from his girlfriend. "I'll meet you at the car."

She smiled and waved. "Bye Mike."

"He's much happier than I've seen him in a while," Gary observed.

"So am I," she murmured.

He turned to her, taking her hands in his. "I didn't know you before Mike, but I can tell that you're a lot happier than you used to be. Especially if Don has valid points. Now, I don't really know what happened with your parents, but I can tell that Mike's really helped you move passed that. And you've helped him move passed his struggles with his mom."

Roxy could feel the blush on her cheeks. "Um thanks Coach Gaines. I don't really know what I would do without Mike. I didn't realize how much I needed him until…well until recently. And I hope it's not assuming too much to say that he feels the same about me."

"Not at all. I don't think you two realize just how you are together. I don't want either of you to let go of what you have because if you do, I don't know if either of you will ever be the same again," he stated, squeezing her hands. "Have fun and remember how happy you two are in these next few days."

"Coach Gaines, do you know something that Mike and I don't?" she inquired, raising an eyebrow.

He smiled, releasing his grip on her hands. "No. I just don't want you to forget it once Mike gets in the swing of playoffs. He can get very grumpy."

He was already halfway to the school before she could respond. His demeanour was sad, almost heartbroken and guilty. It threw Roxy off, as she had never seen him so downtrodden; not even when Boobie injured his knee. She walked back to Mike, casting uncertain glances over her shoulder, even after Gary had disappeared inside the school. Mike reached out his hand to her and she took it, her worry dissolving under the love and passion she felt for him. She fell effortlessly against his warm body, as if she'd been doing it her whole life. He kissed her gently before pulling away to smile.

"Where do you want to go?" he asked, wrapping his arms around her waist and leaning back against the car.

"The moon and back," she replied, resting her cheek on his chest. "But if it has to be somewhere in Texas…"

He laughed. "No way. If my girl wants to go to the moon and back, I will take her to the moon and back."

"You got a rocket in your backseat?" she teased, looking up at him.

"Anything you want Roxy," he replied, moving his arms into a hug.

She rested back against him. "All I want is you Mike. All I want is you."

Casually, Mike opened the backdoor of his car and slid into the back seat. Roxy laughed and crawled in with him, closing the door behind her. "Well who's going to drive?" he asked.

"Billingsley," she teased, poking his side.

He scoffed and ruffled her hair. "I'll do my own driving thanks."

She smiled and squeezed him tight to her body. "I love you Mike. Nothing will ever change that."

"Are you expecting something tragic to happen that might?" he inquired.

"Not really no. I just wanted you to know how much I love you, just in case," she explained.

He smiled. "I appreciate that. I love you just as much Roxy. Maybe more."

"Not possible," she said, closing her eyes in content. "I'm going to have a nap while we fly to the moon. Wake me when we get there."

"Will do baby. Will do," he whispered, kissing her forehead and closing his own eyes.


	14. Chapter 14

_A/N: I don't really know where I was going with this chapter but the relationship between these two was working out too smoothly. So this is what I came up with. Hopefully the next chapter will have something...more. I will take suggestions for what should happen next._

**PS. I ONLY OWN ROXY AND HER PARENTS!**

* * *

Scorching rays of sun beat down on their evenly tanned bodies as they lay on the roof of her house. Despite all their talk of leaving the town for a few days, they decided to enjoy Odessa from an outsider's point of view as best as they could. Instead of school and practice, they spent their days off visiting shops and hitting the hot tourist spots Odessa had to offer. Both teens were surprised at the discoveries they had made in their small town, and had never enjoyed it more. They lay of her roof now, full from a picnic lunch they had shared. Mike traced shapes on her bare stomach with his eyes closed while Roxy mirrored the action on his own naked torso. He chuckled as her finger tips stumbled upon a particularly sensitive spot on his stomach. The giggle didn't go unnoticed by his girlfriend.

"Mike Winchell, are you ticklish?" she inquired, raising an eyebrow.

He couldn't ignore the mischief in her eyes. "Not in any way Roxy, so don't even think about it."

"Now, why would I do that if you aren't ticklish?" she asked innocently.

"I don't like that look in your eyes," he stated, propping himself up on his elbows.

Sure enough, her naivety was false and she pounced on him. He tried to control his laughter as she tickled him mercilessly but soon she had him howling with amusement and protest. It wasn't long before their roles were reversed and he had her pinned under him, tickling her relentlessly. Only when her sides seized from laughing so hard did he stop. But before he would move, he made had her reluctantly agree to a truce. Once he had returned to lying on the roof, she shimmied against him and rested her cheek on his stomach. Absently, he stroked her hair and closed his eyes to the world.

"I had the most fun I've ever had in my life these past few days with you Mike," she admitted.

"So did I Roxy," he stated. "What comes next for us?"

"Graduation and then college," she replied.

"No I mean in the relationship. Where is there to go from here?" he inquired.

"Is this a segue into a break up? Because if it is-"

"Of course it's not. Don't be crazy. I just want to know what I have to look foreword to next," he assured.

She shrugged. "I don't know. That's kind of the beauty of relationships. We'll probably move in together after a while and then go from there."

"Do you want to live with me?" he wondered.

"Eventually. Maybe after graduation, once we leave Odessa," she stated firmly.

"Where would we go? What money would we use?"

"We'd use the money my parents left me with. It's not like they're going to use it."

"I want to be able to support you myself Roxy," he said sombrely.

She smiled and pinched his side. "Don't be such a man, Mike. I didn't say I was going to support us, just that we would use my parents' money to get started. I'm not trying to threaten your manhood."

He hugged her tightly to his warm body. "Why would anyone ever want to hurt you?" he wondered aloud.

"I've been asking myself that question for months now and I still don't have an answer," she sighed, closing her eyes and snuggling against him.

"Hey don't fall asleep on me now," he warned, nudging her gently. "If you fall asleep, I'll fall asleep and then we'll both cook."

"Alright FINE you big bully. Let's take this party inside so I can nap," she groaned, stifling a yawn.

He laughed, standing up and stretching. "Aw is muffincake sweepy from her big day of touring?"

She took a good-natured swipe at him as she stood as well. "Oh shut up big football player."

Before he could respond, there was a honk from the driveway. "Who's in your driveway babe?"

"I have no idea. You're the only one who comes over. Maybe it's Don?" she suggested, beginning her descent to the ground.

Mike was close behind her and once their feet connected with the soil, they ambled towards the driveway. Roxy rounded the corner and caught a clear view of the vehicle parked in front of her house. Her breath caught in her throat and she reached behind her to grab on to Mike. His hand easily found her groping limb without having to look for it. The sight before him had captivated his gaze as he took in the strangers standing in front of him. The woman was tall, elegant and very severe. Her long auburn hair cascaded down her shoulders in loose, professional waves, pinned back at the sides by two diamond encrusted clips. The features of her face were sharp and angular, her nose slanting down her face to a very beak like point. Cold, emotionless blue eyes took in the two teens before her and her upper lip curled in disgust. Mike was instantly taken aback by the hatred she observed them with. Beside her stood a less threatening but equally statuesque man in his mid forties. His brown hair was peppered with a distinguished grey. The bright green of his eyes hid behind years of forced cruelty and distance, but the wrinkles and lines around his face gave his zest for life away. He looked at Roxy with hidden affection while the woman stared through her. The man spoke to them first.

"Hello Roxanne. How have you been?" he inquired, his words laced with concern.

The woman snorted. "I think it's quite obvious how she's been David. The little tramp is greeting us in her underwear."

"It's a bathing suit Maureen," David sighed, rolling his eyes. "Who is this Roxanne?"

Roxy rubbed the back of her neck. "This is Mike Winchell."

Mike held out his hand for the man to shake, which he did vigorously. "Nice to meet you sir."

"Likewise Mike," he said.

"What are you guys doing here? I haven't seen either of you in over a year and then you just…you just show up here and ask me how I'm doing as if I just got home from school?" Roxy demanded.

"We came home. To OUR house," Maureen stated fiercely.

"You guys are moving back to Odessa?" Roxy asked, unable to hide her bewilderment.

"Yes, we're moving back in," she snapped.

"But…I've never been happier and you two just show up to ruin it for me? Why do you do this?" Roxy shrieked.

Maureen reached back and slapped Roxy with surprising force. "Do NOT talk to me like that. I though we'd learned this lesson Roxanne?"

David grabbed his wife's wrist. "Maureen stop. Roxanne, your mother and I are moving back in and-"

"Woah. Wait. You're Roxy's parents?" Mike asked, seeing it for the first time.

"I thought that was obvious from the get go Mike," Roxy whispered, squeezing his hand in a silent request for support.

"What was the rest of that sentence, Mr. Chadwick?" he inquired, reciprocating the squeeze to let her know he understood.

David Chadwick took a deep breath. "We're moving back in and kicking Roxy out of the house."

Roxy's eyes widened to green saucers on her face. "WHAT? Where the hell am I supposed to go?"

Maureen shrugged. "Not really our problem Roxanne."

"Bullshit it's not your problem! You don't even deserve this life. First of all, you take your daughter for granted before abandoning her like the cowards you are, and then you show up, over a year later and kick her out of a house that is rightfully hers? You are the worst two human beings I have ever met," Mike spat, wrapping his arms protectively around Roxy's body. "And I live in Texas."

"EXCUSE ME?" Maureen barked.

"You heard me. You are a disgusting person," he spat.

Shock had enveloped Roxy as Mike told her parents off. He had raised his voice, which was not something she had ever seen him do. Her heart swelled inside her chest, pressing against the bottom of her throat and choking her with emotion. Tears drowned the green of her eyes as she realized just how important she was to him. He was willing to fight her parents for her. That was all the mattered to her. Before he could get his second wind and tear in to her father, she turned to face him and placed her hand on the side of his face.

"It's fine Mike. If they want their house, they can have it," she stated.

"But where will you live?" he asked.

"I'll find a place. It doesn't really matter as long as I have you," she replied with a smile, turning back to her parents. "Mother, you can have your crummy house."

Her dad approached the young couple cautiously. "Roxanne, I'm sorry."

With a fluid motion that surprised the four of them, she wrapped her father in a hug. "I love you daddy. I know you're better than her," she whispered.

"I love you too Roxy. You will always have my money. I know it's not the same but-"

"It's the best you can do. I understand. Good bye," she croaked, choking back tears.

Once she pulled away, she turned back to Mike and nodded, wiping her eyes with the heel of her hand. He draped his arm over her shoulders and together they walked into the house to start packing her things.


	15. Chapter 15

_A/N: I know! I KNOW! It took me WAY too long to update. Can you ever forgive me? This chapter was really hard to write. I almost made drama between Mike and Roxy but I just couldn't do it. And for some reason, I wanted Billingsley to be a good guy in this chapter. Because I like to think he's the best. Just really misguided by alcohol. I love him. Anyway, I apologize for the long wait and hope that there are still readers for this story! Any ideas for what should happen next? Should I actually make some drama for the young couple?_

* * *

It had taken them two days to pack all of her stuff and move her out of the house. Her mother had monitored them like a hawk, eyeing every object in the room to assure Roxy wasn't stealing. The whole two days, a layer of tension so thick hung over them that not even the sharpest knife would cut through it. In a bid to prove to Mike that he really did love his daughter, David Chadwick had spent the better part of the two days finding Roxy a place to stay. It wasn't much, just a small bachelor pad close to the school, but it suited Roxy just fine. When it came time to actually move her things to her new place, her father rented a truck for the three of them and moved her in himself. Mike was still apprehensive about trusting him. Once the two of them had assembled Roxy's bed while she set up the bathroom, Mike pulled him outside.

"How can you just let this happen?" he questioned, wiping his hands on the back of his pants.

"I don't follow you Mike," David sighed.

"Roxy's mother. How can you let her walk all over you like that?"

"She's my wife, Mike. I've been with her for twenty three years. Maybe one day you'll understand."

Mike shook his head. "No, Mr. Chadwick. I won't. Because I would never marry someone like your wife. If you really loved Roxy, you would tell your wife where to go and how to get there. Roxy should come first."

David smiled sadly at the young boy in front of him. "You have a lot to learn about the world and how life treats you Mike. I don't have to worry about Roxy's safety as much anymore because she has you now."

"I just don't understand how you can just walk away from your child because some frigid bitch of a woman tells you she hates her daughter," Mike stated, running his hands through his hair. "Thanks for renting the truck Mr. Chadwick. Have a nice life with your wife."

He left the conversation at that and went inside the house to help Roxy finish settling in. She had moved into the kitchen, puttering around with the counter top. In the short time he had been outside, she had filled the dingy bachelor pad with homey warmth he'd doubted existed for the place. Her posters fit perfectly against the jail cell grey of the walls and her smell had already begun to permeate the stale odour of cigarettes in the carpets. He smiled as he looked around. Roxy noticed Mike was back inside and she put her arm around his waist.

"It's not SO bad," she said, admiring the life-size poster of the Rat Pack that hung next to her bed. "Kind of…cozy."

He smiled. "Well if by cozy you mean painfully small, then yes, it is."

She pinched his side. "Shut up. It's the best…" Her throat closed around the words and tears sprang to her eyes. "Well, ya know."

"Let's go out with Don and Chavo tonight," he suggested.

"I'm not in the mood to drink," she coughed, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "I think I'll just…stay in and unpack."

"Roxy I don't think it's really a good time for you to be alone. Just come out and have some fun. We don't have to drink," he coaxed.

She shook her head, trying unsuccessfully to stop the tears from falling. It only made them fall harder. "My parents just left me again. They came back; just to tell me to get out of their lives."

His arms made their way around her quivering frame. "I'm sorry."

"What kind of monsters put their child through this gut wrenching pain twice? If they hated me that much when I was born, why didn't they just get rid of me before I could grow up to form some weak, pathetic bond with them? Or better yet, just get the abortion so I don't have to keep living this miserable existence," she sobbed into his chest.

"But then you wouldn't be here right now with me," he sighed. "And I don't mean to sound so selfish, but I needed you to come along and make things right in my life."

She looked up at him. "I don't know what I would do without you Mike. Especially now."

"Well I doubt you would do anything stupid. But I'm not willing to risk it to find out," he stated.

"I want to be alone right now," she whispered, pulling herself out of his arms.

He blinked with confusion as she crawled onto her bed. "What?"

"I just want to be alone right now. Go home and spend some time with your mom or something," she snapped, turning her back to him and curling into a ball. "I'll see you at school tomorrow."

"Um…alright. Have a good night," he shot back, unable to hide his hurt and frustration.

She winced when he slammed the door behind him. "I love you," she whispered, clutching the pillow tight to her face.

Mike didn't go home to see his mom. In his haze of emotions, he made his way to Don's house, to join in on the party. The three football players drank themselves through two cases of beer before hitting the road to the real party. Odessa had been having one big party every night since the Panthers had made it into the playoffs, but this was the first time Mike was actually joining his team-mates in the festivities. Through some very drunk detecting, Don had managed to pry into Mike and Roxy's relationship and learn of the small spat the pair had had earlier. Don's solution was to drink as much as they could and find a new woman for the dejected quarterback. At first, Mike did nothing but protest. He and Roxy would work through this in the morning, after she had time to cool off. They were still very much a couple and still very much in love. But Don was determined to break that wall down with an arsenal of beer. Hours later, he was successful in his mission and Mike found himself talking to Melissa. Instead of accusing him of being gay, she was questioning his feelings for Roxy.

"If you really did love this girl, as you've repeatedly said you do, wouldn't you be having a drunken conversation with her instead?" she questioned.

"She had a bad few days. She just wanted to be alone," he slurred, blinking beer from his vision.

Melissa rolled her eyes. "That means she wants to leave you. Girls always say that when they're thinking of a break up."

Before Mike could think of something to say, a loud slap echoed through his ears. More blinking and he saw a very irate Roxy standing in front of a shocked Melissa. "Roxy? I thought you wanted to be alone?"

"I did, until I remembered that Don was at this party and he really isn't the greatest person to be with," she stated, glaring at a very intoxicated Billingsley dancing on a coffee table with two girls she didn't recognize.

Mike smiled. "Now why would you say that?"

"He tried to replace me with a slut," she snapped. "And if I remember correctly, when Don tries to help you out with women, you end up sleeping with them in a dirty bathroom."

"Did you just call me a slut?" Melissa demanded.

"I did, because you ARE a slut. So what cheap hooker line were you using on my boyfriend this time? Because you can't question his sexuality after he's already managed to stomach his way through diseased sex with you," Roxy spat.

Melissa poured the rest of her drink over Roxy's head. "I told him that you were a fucked up little bitch who was only with him to help herself work through some daddy issues she has. And he actually seemed to believe it."

Roxy wiped the warm beer off her face and turned to leave the party, but Melissa grabbed her arm. "Let go of me Melissa."

"You can't just walk away from this," she snarled.

Mike stumbled away from the wall and fell against Roxy. "Just let it go Melissa."

"Mike, you are so pathetic. You come to this party to get drunk because your girlfriend tells you she wants to be alone and doesn't tell you she loves you before you storm out of her house," Melissa barked. "Don't try and act innocent in this whole thing. I don't care if you spent our entire conversation telling me how much you loved her. You weren't doing anything to stop me from sleeping with you."

Don, who had lost interest in table top dancing, swooped into the scene and grabbed Melissa around the waist. "Hey! It was never the intention for Mike to get laid at this party by anyone other than his super hot girlfriend, who can rock the 'Soaked with a bitch's warm beer' look. I got him drunk to take his mind off of whatever stress he's under right now. The guy just needs to RELAX sometimes. Relax does not equal sex with a girl who knows more of the football players than our coach does. So fuck off and leave the two of them alone!"

Roxy bit back a smile. "Wow Don. I didn't know you were so articulate when you were this drunk."

"So…what?" he asked, shoving Melissa aside and putting his arms around both Mike and Roxy. "Whatever Grammar McSpellcheck, I'm not here for an English lesson. Why don't you take Mike's drunk ass home and spend the night showing him how much you really do love him?"

She let out a loud laugh and hugged Don around the waist. "Sometimes you really turn out to be a nice guy. Have fun with your table dancing girls Don."

He slapped his forehead. "Shit! I forgot I was dancing up a storm with them! I gotta go!"

"Why did you come here Roxy?" Mike inquired once Don had disappeared.

"I came to apologize for probably freaking you out and almost driving you into the arms of another…woman," she teased, wrapping her arm around his waist.

"I wouldn't have slept with her ya know," he murmured as they left the party.

Roxy leaned up and kissed his cheek. "Oh I know that Mike. Melissa is a lying bitch. And Billingsley actually managed to come to the rescue, because I would have fucked her up."

Mike laughed. "This is why I love you Roxy."

"I love you Mike," she sighed, walking him to the car. "Now give me your keys. You are in no condition to drive."

"If you want them, you will have to find them," he stated. "I'll give you a hint: they're in my pants."

"My favourite place to be," she smirked, pushing him against the car.


	16. Chapter 16

_A/N: Yeeeeeeeeeeeah...is there anything I can say to justify leaving this story for almost two years? No. Do I think this chapter makes up for it? Not really. Am I hoping that people are still reading and will love it anyway? Most definitely. Do I apologize for the long wait and potential disappoint looming ahead for Mike and Roxy fans? Oh yeah. So without furter ado...here is Chapter 16 and I would LOVE some feedback on what I should do with these two because they are by far the most difficult to write._

_Shout out to LC, who doesn't read this story, but still offered to help with this chapter!_

* * *

Three black ants moved in circles over the linoleum of the floor. From the bed, Roxy watched them. The bile churned in the pit of her stomach, trying to force itself up her throat. Her ant observation proved successful at keeping it at bay. Beads of sweat sparkled on her upper lip while hot perspiration soaked through her tank top. The acid burn of fatigue painted the whites of her eyes with an irritated red. It had been a long night for Roxy. Memories of the disastrous events weighed heavy on her already cloudy mind. Though the playoffs had gone well enough for the team, each victory seemed to drive a wedge between her relationship with Mike. They had begun to spend less time around each other in hopes to lower the tension. So far, their efforts to avoid one another had proved futile on both ends. Her phone rang, offering her a welcome distraction from her thoughts.

"Hello?" she croaked, rolling onto her back.

"Roxy, I need to come over," Mike stated, bypassing a greeting. "Are you feeling better?"

"No, but you can come over. I'll wear a mask to keep from infecting you," she drawled sarcastically.

"Can we stop fighting long enough to have a real conversation? Please?" he sighed.

"Will you stop accusing me of trying to sabotage your games?" she demanded.

"Only if you stop telling me I'm selfish," he countered.

Roxy let out a pained sigh. "Please come over. There's something I need to tell you."

"You can't tell me over the phone?"

"No. It's not that kind of news. And you said you wanted to come over anyway."

He responded by hanging up the phone after throwing out a gruff 'Bye.' Roxy slammed the phone to the ground in disgust and rolled back onto her stomach. She hated how tense their relationship had become. The beginning of the playoffs unveiled a newer, harsher Mike to her. One she'd never known existed. Every word was barbed with resentment if they broached the subject of their future. All Roxy wanted was to leave Odessa and get started on her life. But Mike couldn't see past his mom. Schools offered him scholarships. He turned them down because the commute couldn't be done in a day. While Roxy pored over campus brochures and course lists, visualizing a future, Mike tossed countless chances for something aside, his vision muddled by his ailing mother. Unable to lash out physically at his girlfriend, Mike unleashed an aggression during practices that his teammates never knew he possessed.

The ants had scurried under the stove when her phone had hit the floor. Roxy growled, rising from the bed. Before she could make it to the bathroom, Mike was knocking on the door. She crossed the space between them and flung open the portal. Mike stood looking at her, hands in his pockets. Roxy's heart ached at the sight of him. She wanted to reach out and smooth the wrinkles on his white t-shirt, or finger comb the mess of his black hair. The folds of his rumpled jeans wound down his lean legs and pooled at the flip flops on his feet. Most days, Roxy hated those sandals. But not this day. This day she found them endearing.

"Can I come in?" he inquired, forgetting to add the venom they had both grown accustomed to.

She nodded, afraid to hear the heartbreak in her voice. Mike shuffled into the humid apartment, finally noticing the gaunt appearance of his girlfriend. The green of her eyes had faded to an unhealthy grey, sitting farther in her sockets than he remembered. Chunks of her dull red hair clung to her forehead with perspiration. Smooth round cheeks he had loved to feel against the palms of his hands had been ravaged, leaving sharp cheekbones in their place. Ghosts of her curvy frame hid under her now baggy clothes. Mike inhaled sharply at the faint yellow tinge of her skin. Without realizing it, he'd begun to cry. He wanted to touch her, hold her and breathe some life back into her.

"I'm guessing I look how I feel," she commented dryly, closing the door behind him. "Before you get scared and run for the hills, let me assure you that I am not contagious."

"Why-I mean…how long have you been…what's wrong?" he stammered.

She snorted. "How long have I been deteriorating? Is that your question?"

He reached out and took her hand in his. "Roxy, please."

"Remember when I went upstate for my dancing?" she asked, pushing her hair from her face.

His body tensed at the memory. "Yes."

"Well, it turns out that my dance instructor gave me more than an emotional scar the size of Texas," she confessed.

Mike couldn't hide the confusion he was feeling. "I don't…what?"

Roxy genuinely smiled at her boyfriend for the first time in two weeks. "You're so cute when you're confused."

"Don't change the subject," he said, a hint of a smile on his face.

"Mike, when he…attacked me, he didn't use protection and-"

"Oh my God you're pregnant!" he gasped.

She slapped his arm. "No you idiot! Pregnant people tend to gain weight, especially around the middle. And their skin glows. They don't turn yellow and become skeletons of who they used to be!"

"Well then what did he give you?"

"There in lies the rub," she sighed. "He gave me Hepatitis B, which usually runs its course through the system. But it turns out that there is a history of liver disease in my family anyway, so…I'm stuck with it."

"Until when?" he asked, too stunned to ask an intelligent question.

"Mike, if it doesn't go away, it turns into a very serious liver disease. So I'll either end up with cirrhosis or cancer. And I'm sure I don't need to tell you what those turn into," she answered.

The air fell over the already fragile couple, engulfing them in a stone tomb of awkwardness. Mike released his grip on her hand and ran his own hands over his head. Roxy could feel the quick pace of her heart, terrified that it would shatter her ribcage and fly out of her chest. The five minutes it took for Mike to respond felt like five years to her. And when he did speak, she'd wished he'd kept his mouth shut.

"So you gave me Hepatitis B. You never thought to tell me earlier that you may be diseased?" he demanded.

"Diseased?" she repeated.

"Well that's what you are," he snapped.

"Do you even give a shit about what I just said was going to happen to me?" she shouted. "For future reference, you selfish bastard, we always used protection. So, NO, you don't have it."

Mike pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry Roxy. I didn't mean it."

"Yes you did. Otherwise you wouldn't have said it. Have you thought that way about me since that night? And don't lie to me," she warned.

"No, Roxy. I haven't thought anything about it since we left the hotel. But since the playoffs started, you've been so cold and distant. How long have you known?"

"About my disease?" she sneered.

"Why has this happened to us Roxy? Why aren't we happy together anymore?" he asked, finally voicing the state of their relationship.

"I don't know, Mike. I thought after that night, we could handle anything. Then my parents came back to officially kick me out of their lives and I pushed you away. We can't agree on our future at all, which makes it more and more into individual futures and now you can't even look at me without wanting to vomit. Do you know how it feels to disgust the only person crazy enough to love you?" Roxy sighed, flopping onto the couch. "It exhausts me just talking about it."

"Why do you want to leave Odessa so badly Roxy? We can have just as good a life here as anywhere else."

"How come the end of our life has to start after high school? Why can't we just be young and silly first? My life is not going to end here."

His eyes widened, alarm painted on his features. "What? Don't start talking about the end of…you've got a long life ahead of you."

Roxy chuckled, picking at loose threads on her shorts. "No I don't. Please don't start preaching to me about getting through this. I don't have a chance Mike. Look at me. I'm yellow." As she pulled at her hem, tears began to pour from her eyes. "My parents don't want me. And now you don't either. What's the point in fighting when you have nothing?"

"What is this crazy talk of me not wanting you anymore? Because we fight all the time? Honey, couples argue. It's healthy. Well, maybe I have been kind of a…" he trailed off, searching for a word.

"Jerk?" she offered.

"Thanks for going easy on me. I've been that way because you're so ready to leave this place behind and I'm scared that includes me too. I've been nasty and hurtful and I'm sorry. I'm not right. I expected you to tell me it was over Roxy. Then you drop this news on me and it just confirms that I am going to lose you," he confessed, dropping down beside her.

"So why should we spend that time miserable and fighting? Mike, I know you can't be with me now without wondering if I'm giving you Hepatitis. Let's just make it easy for you and let you focus on football," she offered, wiping her eyes with the heel of her hand. "I'm giving you a get out a jail free card."

"Well then who's going to make it easy for you?" he inquired. "You want to go through this alone?"

"Mike, you're not emotionally ready to help me through this," she whispered. She didn't have to look up to know she'd struck a nerve.

"Fine," he deadpanned. "Alone is what you want, you got it."

He stood up, rubbing his palms against his thighs. Roxy watched him storm to the door. She was horrified to see him crush an ant under his foot with a soft crunch. She was immediately disgusted that she was so hurt by the loss of the insect and not of her boyfriend. Deep in her heart, she knew she'd feel the loss later. And she knew that it would hurt more than the untimely demise of the ant. She also knew that it would hurt more than the loss of parents. When Mike walked out the door of her apartment, she'd be losing her only shot at a family and the feeling of real love. Roxy knew all this, but made no movement to keep him. Watching him leave now, would be easier than losing him later. This gave him a chance to move on before grief got the chance to swallow him whole.


End file.
